Time's Bitch
by corvusdraconis
Summary: [HG/SS] AU: Lily says some things she probably should have reconsidered before yelling them out. She learns too late that maybe one should be very careful about what one wishes for. You never know when magic might be listening. (Probably crack, this is me, after all.)


**Summary: **[HG/SS] AU: Lily says some things she probably should have reconsidered before yelling them out. She learns too late that maybe one should be very careful about what one wishes for. You never know when magic might be listening. (Probably crack, this _is _me, after all.)

**A/N:** Ummm.. I blame my beta not being on when she usually is. It tends to lead to unmoderated plot bunnies.

**Beta Love:** Ahhhhh! Publishing unsupervised!

_Not anymore! (Dragon) _

Aww, man… busted!

* * *

**Time's Bitch**

**A CorvusDraconis Quickie**

_Anyone who has declared someone else to be an idiot, a bad apple, is annoyed when it turns out in the end that he isn't. _

**Friedrich Nietzsche**

* * *

"I really wish you'd stop following me around and realise that I'll _never _forgive you, Severus." Lily's face was suffused with fury and as red as her hair.

"You're _pathetic_. You say one thing and then you go tromping around with the likes of Avery and Mulciber like it's okay to call people Mudbloods so long as I'm not one of them? Why does it even _matter_, huh? What makes the others any different from me? I don't want to be around you anymore— and I don't want you to think I'll just wake up one day and forgive you because I won't. Not _ever."_

"Lily—"

"Leave me _alone_, Sev," Lily hissed.

"But—"

"_**Lily, NO!"**_ James and Sirius were running towards her at top speed.

"I wish you had never even _**cared **_about me!"

* * *

Severus awoke in the early morning and snuck out the back door quite easily. His father's drunken snores always gave him the advantage, at least this early in the morning.

He couldn't _wait _to get to the willow tree.

_She _would be there.

She was brilliant and bossy and kind all wrapped up together and—

"_**Severus!"**_ he heard her cry.

He beamed, the smile reaching from his toes to his eyes and practically arching right over his head.

They ran off together, their forms shimmering as they collided in a flurry of fur and paws and claws and teeth, tumbling and rolling in the grass, sending seed pods and fluffy seeds flying in all directions.

It had always been this way ever since the very first day they'd met.

The moment they touched, the heat of magic had consumed them completely and they ended up on all fours with fur and spots, and clouds of strangely scented breath that seemed to depend on their mood.

Hers always seemed to smell of sugar plums whenever she was happy. She said he smelled like spearmint toothpaste. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or bad, but at least she didn't think he stank!

They flomped down to lay in the cool summer grass, panting, playing with each other's paws, then dashed through the high grass sending grasshoppers and birds flying in all directions. They chased, stalked, pounced, and frolicked together— even hunted together.

He had to admit, the first rabbit they ever ate together filled his stomach better than anything he'd ever gotten at home.

They snuffled and watched a hedgehog scurrying about, but they knew better than to bat at it. Hedgehogs _hurt!_

_**POUNCE!**_

Hermione snapped up a fat squirrel that had obviously had one too many feeders in its stomach. The squirrel died instantly, her jaws lethal as always. She'd managed to figure out the right bite almost immediately. He, on the other hand, was the one who often warned her of prey being close by.

Together, they could take on almost anything!

Well, maybe a deer.

As long as they worked together.

The squirrel was more like a snack, but she shared it with him as always. She never failed to share. He never failed to be grateful and groomed the random bits and squirrel blood off her muzzle in appreciation. It was the least he could do.

Sometimes they would watch the neighbours. Two obnoxious girls with annoying voices that made their ears flatten back against their heads.

Too noisy.

Too shrill.

Sometimes Hermione would get curious and watch them a while longer, but eventually she'd tire of it in favour of Severus. He never minded.

"Do you think this is normal?" Hermione asked, tail swishing.

Severus shrugged, his coat rippling in the sun. "Normal for us. Mum said witches and wizards can change shape. They call them Animagi. They're supposed to be only normal animals though."

Hermione tilted her head. "Who _says _we're not normal?"

"Muggle normal, I think," Severus corrected.

"How limiting," Hermione decided, pouncing his tail.

Severus roared, tackle-tumbling with her in the grass until he heard his father's voice bellowing. Severus' ears pinned back against his head.

"It's okay," Hermione said. "It's almost night time. See you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," Severus answered, cheek-rubbing against her muzzle. "Promise?"

"Promise," she said, tail swishing.

Severus slunk off into the high grass and rose up as a human boy once more. Then he dashed off back home.

Hermione rose up from the high grass as a young girl again, a sad smile on her face as she realised she'd lost her paws and claws again.

_**Thip!**_

_Ow!_

Hermione rubbed her head, a trickle of blood on her fingers.

"_**Freak, freak, you're a stupid freaky freak!" **_

The two girls were picking on her again. They'd claimed the old tire swing on the willow as their personal property and they never ceased to let her know it.

Hermione crinkled up her nose, a hint of her fangs showing in her human mouth as her emotions got the best of her. Then, she remembered about Severus.

If she got in trouble, she wouldn't be able to keep her promise.

She ran off instead, choosing to avoid trouble rather than confront it.

She couldn't help but wonder why those two girls were always so cruel.

* * *

Hermione's parents were the _best!_

The garden picnics were to die for. They had sausage rolls and fruit salad, fried potatoes, and pasties. They seemed determined to fatten him up too, insisting that he eat well whenever he visited, which was every time he could.

They always insisted on brushing and flossing after meals, though.

Or sweet drinks.

It was worth it, he figured, for a happily full stomach.

They didn't even seem to flinch when the pair zoomed around the garden like their tails were on fire, chasing each other with mrowls and prrrs, bopping each other on the head and then chasing the other back around the garden.

At least until it was time for bed.

Mr Granger picked him up by the scruff of the neck and Mrs Granger picked up her daughter. They protested, mrowling against the injustice of it all— at least until they tucked the pair in together, paws and all.

Were they _really _Muggles?

Amazing!

Why couldn't his father be that cool?

When his mother came to pick him up, she had made a really bad attempt to cover up her latest batch of bruises, and Mr and Mrs Granger had refused to allow Severus to go home with her until they were sure it was safe.

Eileen protested that he would be okay. That _she _would protect him—

Neither Mr or Mrs Granger seemed to be willing to allow him to go—

It was the first time he'd ever seen his mother use her wand.

Mr and Mrs Granger got a slack-jawed blank expression on their faces as she dragged him back home by the collar.

Of course, Tobias was waiting for them and beat them both viciously, if for different reasons. He always had reasons to use his fists on them.

Severus wanted so badly to claw and bite him.

He wanted to breathe in his face.

But he thought about Hermione not seeing him down by the willow the next day and being sad.

He held his breath.

He took it like a man— or at least how he imagined Mr Granger would.

It was enough to think of her and suffer through it— for her sake.

He couldn't _bear _to think of her crying over him.

* * *

The first time they both ended up on the Hogwarts Express, they found compartment together and settled in for the long ride to the castle.

The Grangers had bought them each an owl with the condition that they always keep in touch "however the bird-mail works" as Mr Granger put it.

They'd taken them both to Diagon Alley to shop for school supplies, and for the first time in his life, Severus had clothes and shoes that fit him properly instead of being forced to wear his father's too-large cast-offs.

They got lost in Flourish and Blotts, of course, both wanting extra books about transfiguration— if anything, to see how normal it was to become giant cloud-breathing felines.

_Still _growing, apparently.

Mr Granger said they had to grow into their paws, whatever that meant.

Hermione was worried that she wouldn't be sorted into the same house as him, and secretly he was too. He tried to put on a brave face, telling her it didn't matter, but inside he was really worried.

What if she found other friends and forgot about him?

What if she realised he was nothing special?

They settled in together, opening their books to get a head start on reading, leaning comfortably against each other, just as they always did. It was a habit to feel the other there and take comfort in it.

There was a commotion outside the compartment, and then a frizzy red-headed girl with pale skin and freckles wept her way in, barely rubbing away tears as she hid behind her trunk and other bags she had.

"Yeah run away, Mudblood," sniggering voices said.

"Stupid bint."

"Muggle trash."

"Doesn't even have the decency to be polite to your betters."

"Psht."

The girl's eyes were streaked with red, making her green eyes look very oddly set, like a Christmas tree had attacked her eyeballs.

Hermione shuffled closer to Severus, still silent.

She never had a problem speaking her mind usually, and _that _made Severus wary. He narrowed his eyes at the interloper, but he didn't say anything because the compartment wasn't full. It's not like he had the authority to kick her out.

And, she was crying, and that would be bad manners.

Mrs Granger always said to treat people as you wished to be treated, but he'd never quite believed it due to his da. Treating his father with respect just got him smacked for being insolent.

Still, he took his cue from Hermione and remained silent, allowing the red-headed girl to sniffle and regain her composure.

"You going to make fun of me too?" the girl said accusingly.

_Well, I wasn't, but now that you already accused me of it,_ Severus thought, eyes narrowing.

Still, Hermione was snuggled up warmly against his arm, and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable being next to him, so he held his tongue.

He had no idea who this strange girl was, but he didn't really want to either.

She probably couldn't even kill a fat squirrel. She'd surely starve if left to fend for herself.

"We should probably change into our robes," Hermione said quietly. "Um— could you maybe hold up the blanket for me?"

Severus tutted, pulling out the soft throw blanket they had tucked away and held it up to give her some privacy. "Hurry up. My arms are getting tired," he complained.

He felt the other girls' eyes on him, and he turned his head to glower at her.

The girl turned her head away quickly as if to snub him.

Hermione dressed quickly, despite his complaints to the contrary, and she held up the blanket for him too— made slightly awkward because her height wasn't that great, and he already seemed to tower over her like a looming dark scarecrow.

Still, he appreciated the thought as he dressed himself quickly.

As they settled back down, the other girl was looking uncomfortable with the pile of robes sitting in her lap. Perhaps, refusing to admit that she wanted a little privacy of her own, she harrumped at them, exiting the compartment and hurrying away.

Hermione and Severus traded looks of "Who knows?" before they settled back in to read for the rest of the journey.

* * *

The Sorting Hat placed Hermione in Ravenclaw after about a fifteen minute stall, much to her mortification. The Hat seemed to want to put her in Gryffindor, but Hermione looked over to who was sat with Gryffindor and shook her head adamantly. The Hat kept trying to steer her back to Gryffindor, but Hermione was almost crying in distress. Finally, the Hat decided it was far better to place her in Ravenclaw than have a distressed, highly emotional, young witch tearing him into pieces out of sheer terror.

Severus had once wanted to be in Slytherin— to become powerful and better than his father— to prove he was better. But now, he only wanted to be with Hermione, and he had to admit that the quest for knowledge was a path to power just in a different (and arguably sneakier) way.

The Hat muttered to him of three different houses, thinking perhaps Gryffindor (_**HELL NO!**_), Slytherin (ehh… what would they think of Hermione?), or Ravenclaw (yes, please, and thank you). After about ten minutes, and people were starting to think it was a "thing" to get hat stalls that year, the Hat finally threw him into Ravenclaw, much to his (and everyone else's) impatient relief.

Hermione gave him such a bright and welcoming smile, he _knew _it was the right choice.

They would be together, like always.

* * *

Professor McGonagall found them curled up together in the library one morning— a furry tangle of claws, paws, and teeth. It seemed quite normal for them, but the elder witch seemed a little confused on what to think.

They were obviously not human, but they were happily reading books together, so basic maths had apparently combined 2 and 2 and ended up with pi.

"Erm," Minerva said. "Could you two follow me, please? But leave the books behind, if you would."

Hermione, horrified, quickly picked up the book in her mouth and leapt up to the right shelf and nosed it into place before hopping back down. No book was being left open and exposed on _her _watch—

Severus stifled a chuckle, giving her a fond lick on the ear as they merrily bounced after Minerva's robes (trying very hard not to pounce them because the fabric was so temptingly shiny and crinkly).

"Becoming an Animagus is a very big deal in the Wizarding world," the elder witch told them. "It usually takes at least a year or more of training. If you _do _have control over it, I would require you to register yourselves with the Animagus Registry so you do not get in trouble with the Ministry."

Hermione flattened her ears back at the very thought of breaking rules.

Severus bopped her gently over the head with one paw to calm her down.

Hermione looked rather sheepish.

"If you could please change back for me?"

The two cubs stared at each other, shrugged, and then rose up in their human forms like a good stretch in the early morning. It had always been so natural to them to be felines together. Changing back had required checking each other for remnant tails, fangs, or ears.

_Ears good? Head right? Dull human teeth? No tail? Okay, good._

Professor McGonagall looked at them with raised eyebrows. "Well, I'll be." She had a delighted smile on her face. "I think we'll just fill out these forms now and make it all legal, hrm?"

Hermione nodded, liking the entire legal thing.

Severus rolled his eyes but nodded. _Fine. Legal. Whatever._

After dipping their paws in ink and signing the parchment, Minerva sent a galleon each via owl to wherever the registration forms flew off to after being properly filled out.

She said something about them being exceptional for having figured out how to do such a thing so early in life, and Severus wasn't going to tell anyone that it had just happened from the moment they first touched.

He didn't mention the telepathy either. Nope. _That _secret was a keeper.

The Headmaster always looked at them like he was trying hard to get a read on them, and sometimes they felt a tingling in their head when he looked them in the eyes. Yet, he would always frown, his face scrunching as if he was puzzling out some great mystery that wasn't revealing itself.

Severus never really trusted the old wizard. He treated him with proper respect as befit his station, but trust was another thing altogether.

* * *

Their second year, the pranks started getting more annoying. It seemed like everyone in the school had experienced some prank or another. It was really causing problems, and no one could seem to figure out who was doing it.

It was like they were— invisible.

Also, they always seemed to strike whenever you were alone.

Girls would scream and claim there was someone tugging at their robes. Other students would end up tripping because of obstacles that weren't there before. Books would go flying off into mud puddles—

Hermione lost one book in a puddle, and her magic flared up so badly that she accidentally caused an electrical storm in the hallway.

It wasn't until he saw that tosser Sirius Black and his best mate James Potter nursing some nasty electrical burns during the next meal that Snape started putting the pieces together.

After that, Snape made it a point to stick with Hermione basically all the time when she wasn't safely in the girl's dorm, the common room, or the loo. Hermione was so sensitive, and if a book set her off into an electrical storm, he could only imagine what a fit of rage would do.

Thankfully, she seemed to appreciate the company, as she'd not exactly been oblivious to the prank attacks that had hit many a Ravenclaw out alone.

He only saw that strange girl from the train here and there, and it seemed like each time he saw her she was trying out new beauty charms from that rubbish magazine Witch Weekly.

He'd seen the ludicrous potions recipes in that horribly offensive magazine, and if the charms were of the same quality as the potion recipes, he was pretty sure it was why half the girls in Hogwarts had major "issues" accomplishing anything beauty-wise.

The girl, Lily, if he recalled her name correctly, had apparently used some sort of glamour to cover up all of the scars and spots on her face— sometimes putting on too much Muggle makeup instead whenever the charms didn't work. He could smell the cover-up, and it made his nose tingle unpleasantly.

Hermione, thankfully, didn't give a flying fig about her appearance save for the standard use of a brush and hair tie on occasion. The most she used was a moisturising lotion that they'd brewed together, gaining them high marks in Slughorn's class for its apparent blemish erasing properties.

Both he and Hermione used it because it kept their skin from drying out around the cauldrons, but their invention had already lined their Gringotts accounts with more galleons than they knew what to do with. People started to call it the Sleakeazy's for the skin, which he thought was utter rubbish.

Still, they didn't have to worry about paying for books or supplies or even clothes for the rest of their school careers. That was a definite positive. Hell, it was looking like they would have whatever they wanted for a career as many doors were opening for the pair that crafted such a "wonder at a young age."

_Whatever, _Severus thought. _It's just really good lotion. If they want to pay me sickening amounts of money for it, that's their loss._

Still, it gave him funds to play with, and that meant the best treats for their owls and the ability to afford Hermione's favourite tea blend, which he mixed himself.

Slughorn said he had a fine nose for potions and herbal mixtures, and Severus wasn't sure if that was an insult or not. He _did _have a rather distinctively hooked nose.

The gaggle of Gryffindors seemed to glower at him even more after they found out about Snape's highly lucrative and patented formula— namely the same group of tossers as always: Potter, Black, Pettigrew, and Lupin.

They'd try to show off to Hermione and insult Snape, calling him a greasy git and other unkind descriptors.

Hermione would glower at them, her hair rising up into near-sentience, and they would backpedal so quickly, perhaps reminded them that the last time she'd had an emotional reaction to their ridiculous antics, she'd almost electrocuted them.

Severus, secretly, was so terribly proud of her.

Later, after the show of bravado, she would cuddle in a little closer to him while they relaxed under the massive oak tree on the green.

No matter how bad the day had been, that always made everything better.

* * *

Their third year, they met the centaur— quite unintentionally when they'd chased a deer into the woods. In their excitement, they'd forgotten it was forbidden, and the two spotted cubs looked up at the centaur with no little trepidation.

The grim(est) looking one, which they deduced was the leader, seemed to mull over what to make of them.

"By right of the hunt, this makes them adults," one of them said.

"But these are foals of Hogwarts," another said.

The grim leader stroked his chin with his fingers. "And would you, foals of Hogwarts, share your kill with us to be seen as equals amongst our number?"

Severus and Hermione, wisely, sat down away from the kill, leaving it for their much larger acquaintances, even as their bellies growled.

"I am Orrin," the leader said, bowing down with foreleg bent and the other extended. His black coat shined with the spots of health on his fur.

"Sander," the red roan centaur said, also bowing.

"Vitalis," the paint centaur said, following suit.

"With this knife, I do accept your kill with your right to hunt within our borders," Orrin said, slicing the deer from throat to tail. He rummaged in the innards carefully, pulling out the heart. He dug a hole with his hoof and placed it inside then covered it up. "The heart goes to the Earth, for our first kill amongst the people must be witnessed both by a member of the herd and the Earth itself."

Orrin rose up, rearing. "The first kill is given to the herd that they may share your prowess and know you as a hunter. In exchange, you may hunt freely here, safe within our boundaries, but should you have more than you can eat, remember the herd and those who may yet be hungry."

Orrin dipped his hand into the mud and drew a mark across their brows. "Rise, hunters of Hogwarts, and say your names that we may call you by them."

The two cubs swallowed hard and rose up as humans— feeling quite naked despite their clothes but without their fur.

"Severus."

"Hermione."

Orrin smiled, drawing another line on their foreheads, completing the pattern. "Welcome to the herd, Severus, Hermione."

* * *

Being permitted in the no-longer-forbidden forest had many advantages—

Prowling, namely.

Often, they would chase each other in the woods and frolic, stalk, pounce, and then nap in the dappled sunlight before going back to Hogwarts. They were getting better at hunting larger deer, and what they couldn't eat they gave to the herd as promised.

Orrin said that when they were grown they would true defenders of the herd.

Neither Severus nor Hermione were feeling very much like defenders as the centaur were so much taller than they were, but they did agree that they were growing larger and more into their paws.

Apparently, Mr and Mrs Granger had been right about that.

But, one night, when they were returning from the forest, Lily Evans was standing there with a prefect who took points from Ravenclaw for them being out in the Forbidden Forest.

It was then, the pair realised that they would have to learn to prowl more effectively and always keep one eye open, thanks to the likes of Lily Evans.

* * *

"They _what_?"

"The centaurs gave them permission to be in the forest," Filius Flitwick said patiently. "They told me right away when it happened. And I did confirm it with Orrin, the leader of the herd."

"You—" The Headmaster was stroking his beard rather quickly. "I see. Well, I suppose since they have given permission, but this is highly unusual, Filius."

"They do have the herd mark, Headmaster," Filius pointed out. "I think in this case, their points should be restored and detentions removed."

"Well, still, they never informed me—" Dumbledore protested.

"No, instead they informed _me_, as their Head of House," Filius squeaked indignantly. "That is perfectly acceptable. They should not be punished just because some petty, jealous witch from another house wants to make trouble for them."

"They are only children, Filius, they can hardly protect themselves in the forest should—"

"I don't think that will be much of an issue for them," Filius said with a sniff. "Minerva and I have discussed it, and if anything it's only natural."

"Only— _natural_?" Dumbledore repeated, his brow crinkling in confusion.

Filius sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. "Well, of course, Headmaster. What else would any self-respecting pair of Nundu want to do together but prowl the woods like the wild felines they are?"

Albus' eyes tried to bug out of his head and roll across the desk, a rather disturbing sight on the usually calm and collected Headmaster.

Filius waved his hand. "Legally registered too." He pointed to the small, unobtrusive identification collars that were hidden with a Ministry glamour.

Albus tried to collect himself as he slowly processed that bit of previously unknown information. "How can you be sure?"

"I assure you, they are," Filius said tartly. "Amelia Bones over at the DoM wants them to spend at least one day a week apprenticing with their masters there. She made sure that everything was well in order. Of course, you _know _this, you yourself signed the papers allowing them to go."

Albus looked discomfited. "They said nothing about them being Nundu, Filius."

"I hardly see that as mattering."

"I can hardly support the misconception that they are Nundu. Leopards, perhaps, but _Nundu_?" Dumbledore was frowning.

Filius, now frustrated, waved his hands around in annoyance. "It hardly matters, Albus. Nundu. Leopard. Either are perfectly well able to care for themselves in the forest, unlike most children or even adults thanks to bloody Hagrid."

"Now you know it's not Hagrid's—"

"Poppycock," Filius snorted in derision. "Half or more of the current problems in the Forbidden Forest are because it's filled with _forbidden_ experiments and released non-native creatures due to him and his pet projects and you know it, Albus."

Dumbledore rubbed the space between his eyes rapidly.

Filius sighed, frustrated. "Hermione, Severus."

The two students shuffled up from the chairs they were sitting on.

"Please show the Headmaster your ears."

Hermione and Severus wrinkled their noses and bowed their heads, pulling their hair from over their ears.

Distinctive, almost fluorescent green spots lay hidden within the folds of their ears. A matching black patch lay on the opposite side.

Albus seemed stuck on staring at the children's unnervingly dark green, almost black nails.

"Also a glamour, Filius?"

Filius snorted. "Of course, Headmaster. I could hardly let them be ostracised around certain children who seem to make it their mission in life to find differences to harass the other children about."

It was then that the duo realised that both Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick would stand up for them, and they were totally okay with that, proud even. It was also then that the two realised that the Headmaster did not seem to take it well at all that he had two student Animagi at the school and hadn't known anything about it.

He seemed to stare into them, as if it would help him decipher any sign of ill intent, but when they both met his gaze unflinchingly, the old wizard's head jerked back as if scalded.

"I see, well—" Albus continued a bit uneasily. "I suppose the points can be restored to Ravenclaw and the detentions removed."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Filius said, making a shooing motion for the pair. The two knew when it was time to make a quick exit, and they did so immediately. Filius stormed out of the headmaster's office just as stormily as short legs were able to convey, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

Fawkes swung back and forth on his brass swing with true enthusiasm, merrily warbling _The Lion Sleeps Tonight_.

* * *

Hermione and Severus returned to the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall for their study period and saw Lily giving them a smugly satisfied look before she turned to whisper maliciously to her friends at the Gryffindor table.

"I don't know what she's all about," Ailsa McDougall said, shaking her head. "You won us a hundred points each for brokering peace with the centaur, something no student has done in— well, ever. Even if it was only for the two of you. You'll be in the next edition of _Hogwarts: a History_ for sure!"

Hermione and Severus smiled proudly and went back to their studies.

They were Ravenclaws, after all. It was only natural.

* * *

Ravenclaw easily took the House Cup that year.

No one in Ravenclaw was surprised. They hadn't gotten in trouble save for a few seventh years who got caught snogging in the halls after curfew, and they hadn't missed any opportunity to answer questions in class.

Slytherin as a whole seemed to pout. Hufflepuff seemed quite determined to get them next year. As for Gryffindor—

Well, many believed that if Gryffindor simply focused more on academics than on getting students from rival houses in trouble, they could have done much better.

Maybe.

* * *

The summer before their third year, the pair spent a happy holiday abroad visiting South America where they hiked around the jungle to see many of the ancient Meso-American ruins. They couldn't help but notice all of the jaguar faces everywhere they looked, and both took turns trying to emulate their expressions whenever Mr and Mrs Granger weren't looking.

They came back to jointly apprentice under the DoM learning all about tracking and defence against the Dark arts from a scruffy-looking Auror named Alastor Moody. The old Scotsman seemed rather crass and cranky, but he taught them well and even confessed before they went back to Hogwarts for the year than they were "passable."

Amelia told them privately that that was to be considered _very _high praise from a wizard like Moody.

Hermione was on cloud nine for months after that, and Severus had to admit that he was mightily proud as well.

Severus didn't even seem to notice that his summer had gone by and he hadn't had to deal with his father Tobias even once. His mother had given the Grangers permission to take him on vacation with them for the summer, and perhaps she was secretly glad that he was to stay on at the DoM the rest of the hols too.

The two children were thick as thieves, however, and any other concerns beyond occasional bickering over the best sunning spot or high place to perch and watch the goings on were easily lost amidst their studies.

* * *

Fourth year, Hermione and Severus figured out a way to weave her love of Arithmancy into Severus' love of potions. They created the world's first long-term calming draught that would lay dormant until it was needed and then activate whenever the body needed it the most.

Slughorn was more than happy to parade them around to the key Healers and potioneers around St Mungos, and Severus and Hermione earned themselves a few weekends taking advanced classes in Potions and Arithmancy with two masters who were excited to put their discoveries into practice in other potion combinations.

Their coffers, already full to bursting from their regenerative lotion formula, needed to be expanded again, and the Gringotts goblins happily upgraded their vaults to the larger, higher-security lower levels to better accommodate their wealthy young clients.

If the pair had any inclination to think themselves better for it, they never once showed it. They were always deep into their books and studies, and when they weren't busy doing that, they were eagerly honing their hunting skills in the forest with the centaur herd.

Their owls never lacked for comfortable perches, high quality food and treats, though, and the faithful avians seemed to thrive considerably better on the preserved "real" food over the standard fare of owl nuts. Every week, the pair wrote letters to Mr and Mrs Granger telling them all about how well their studies were going, and every week, they would get a fresh box of delectable biscuits and tea in return.

Hermione hoarded the tea like a dragon over a nest of eggs, as usual, but the biscuits she shared with Severus.

He didn't mind since she _did _share with him.

It was really the only thing he cared about, anyway, outside of academics.

* * *

Fifth year, the pranksters caught him in a rare moment alone while Hermione was in the hospital wing with the flu.

She was utterly miserable, and he was utterly miserable because of her being utterly miserable.

He brought her food and study books, class assignments, and tasty snacks to keep her strength up.

Mostly what she did was sleep, understandably, and Madam Pomfrey quickly shooed him out so he wouldn't end up with it, knowing the two were too close not to share highly contagious bugs between them.

This made Severus decidedly grumpy, and so he was off his game when he suddenly found himself suspended by his ankles and hung in the air as Potter and his merry band of wankers got their cheap giggles at his expense.

They made fun of his hair because everyone else did. They didn't seem to care that it was a natural side effect of potions brewing to have abused hair. They, of course, had then proceeded to make fun of his brewing too, claiming that he'd stolen the formula off Potter's dad, of all the stupid things.

What utter rubbish.

He knew the patent process, now, so there was no _way _that could be even accidentally true.

He knew of a few acute hexes that would have served the imbeciles right, but thoughts of Hermione's disapproval stayed his curses. She was always so sentimental about not being the first one to start a magic battle— but she was also realistic enough to say that if he finished it, well, that was only natural.

Still, she was sick, and he wanted to be there at her side if she needed him.

He didn't have _time _to get in trouble for hexing the idiots even in his own defence.

Besides, the spells and counters he'd learned from Moody would have torn them to pieces— and Moody always told them to only use such counters when his life was in danger.

As much as it aggrieved him, his life wasn't actually in danger.

So, while his body was being hung upside down like Odin on the Yggdrasil, Snape closed his eyes and thought of the happiest moments of his life instead.

Images of Hermione's happy pounces, their wild tears across the green, playing in the Whomping Willow, hunting together, studying together, making faces at each other as they tried to emulate the jaguar statues—

Every happy memory he had involved Hermione in some way.

He felt a powerful thrum in his body.

Suddenly, a brilliant spectral jaguar burst out from his chest and away, zinging towards the castle but not before knocking his tormentors face down into the mud.

Footsteps.

Running.

Toward but not away.

Flitwick was running towards him, yelling. McGonagall was not so far behind him.

The dastardly quintuplets, frozen in shock with their wands still pointed at Snape, could only babble hysterically about ghosts flying out of Snape's body.

A furious Flitwick got Snape down with a quick flick of his wand, returning Severus' wand with another flick. An absolutely livid Minerva, on the other hand, pointed to the headmaster's office, directing the merry band of miscreants to their fate.

That night, Severus snuggled up to Hermione in his Nundu form, wedging her arm around his neck and having her cuddle against his back.

The flu be damned. It was far more dangerous to be alone.

Fifty points to Ravenclaw for a full-bodied Patronus calling on a teacher for assistance.

Snape smiled with feline smugness as Hermione's arm curled around his neck instinctively and she snuggled into his warmth.

Take _that_, Gryffindor.

* * *

After Hermione recovered from her few weeks of enduring the magic-sucking flu, Severus felt like he had a permanent ruffle in his fur where she had snuffled and snuggled into his warm neck for the last week of his duty as her personal feline therapist.

He didn't really mind, though.

She did so love his thick black scruff and would attack and maul it playfully at every possible opportunity. He tolerated along with pretty much everything she did, if only because it was her.

They bounced and tumbled down the hallways, diving behind pillars and hiding behind curtains before ambushing unwary rodents and promptly tearing them to pieces.

Hermione was more of a swift beheading type; her powerful jaws were like a lethal guillotine. He was more of a suffocate and snap the neck sort of predator. Between the two, only an exceedingly lucky few managed to pull off a successful escape— if only because the two were still experimenting with the most efficient grips and bites.

Practice makes perfect and all that—

It didn't take long before the rodents of Hogwarts seemed to be declining significantly, and they had to turn their sights on other pests like gnomes and the strange glowing moths that liked to infest the greenhouses at night.

They'd leave piles of the unpalatable wings on the path to the greenhouses after they were done, much to Professor Sprout's delight as the wings, when crushed, ironically made a highly potent pest repellant.

Amidst their nightly antics, they would prowl the green, and found that the Whomping Willow made a great friend that they could feint, bat at, and cling to the branches before cuddling up together in the large crook in the center of its limbs in the moonlight.

Alas, curfew would near, and the pair would cautiously slink back to Ravenclaw Tower, leaving the rest of the school no more the wiser to their nocturnal antics.

Every so often they would have to sneak around Lily Evans, who would often be waiting by the main door as if that were the most obvious place for them to return to the castle. Somehow, the witch highly suspected them of sneaking around outside—

But they would always pick a new path each night, never using the same one more than twice in a row, using it as a mental exercise in finding a number of alternative routes.

But most troubling to the pair of nocturnal pouncers was the unnerving way that the little group of Gryffindor trolls would always seem to be wandering toward them at times when no one else was around.

Thankfully, their natural camouflage worked very well indeed. It made their fur stand on end, a part of their instinctive predatorial senses torn in between attacking or stalking prey. Part of them seemed to know that it was not their lot in life to be prey, and having the roles seemingly reversed made them mighty uncomfortable.

Hermione suspected that Lily, at least, had high hopes of becoming a prefect sooner rather than later and eventually Head Girl, but Severus didn't really support that idea. The girl had been determined to be a perpetual thorn in their side ever since she'd first accused him on the train of trying to make fun of her too, and it just hadn't gotten any better from that point on.

Severus thought it was pretty contradictory of her considering she ordered a _lot _of the blemish remover lotion via one of their top partner apothecaries, Slug and Jiggers of Hogsmeade.

As if two Ravensclaws wouldn't keep damned good customer records.

Honestly.

Hermione wondered what on earth she could possibly need that much blemish remover for or if she was just using it as an, admittedly _quite _expensive, skin moisturiser.

"She might as well just start drinking Dittany instead of pumpkin juice," Severus had muttered as he went over their financial records. "Might be a bit cheaper."

Hermione shrugged. "Looks like our owls get the very best food again this month."

"This _lifetime_," Severus said, finishing the last of the calculations. "Oh well, who am I to quibble over someone wanting to pay us stupid amounts of galleons for a cosmetic use. It's not like we charge the same prices for the hospitals who use it for actual medical purposes."

Hermione had agreed. In fact, their fair prices for the medical treatments for serious maladies of the skin had earned them a very good reputation with Mungos and beyond for helping patients at a reasonable cost for hard to treat skin diseases (such as Spattergroit, severe dragon pox, gnome-rot, necrotic troll boils and the like).

The long-acting calming draught was just one more feather in their potion-arithmancy cap, and while the students of Hogwarts remained either oblivious or disbelieving of such things, Hermione's and Severus' rapidly growing Gringotts accounts proved otherwise.

The summer before their sixth year at Hogwarts, the Grangers carted the pair off to a holiday on safari in Africa, which also doubled a volunteer goodwill mission to help orphaned elephants and other rare animals that were being killed by poachers.

Africa crawled underneath their skin and made them glow, and they quickly took to everything from feeding orphaned baby elephants to scrubbing down the older ones, mucking out sanctuaries, and helping wrangle much-needed supplies to areas in need.

Accidentally, they had both revealed themselves as Nundu Animagi and saved a tribal chief's young son from a poacher attack, and much to their surprise learned that the chief was part of an ancient bridge village that was fully aware of the magical world but also lived in the Muggle one.

They were welcomed into the tribe, painted up, taught to dance until they were almost so exhausted they couldn't stand, fed some rather unexpected local foods, and then taken out on their first hunt with the neighbouring tribe who hunted with, even more surprisingly, Nundu.

The two adult Nundu were as huge as Shire horses, and both Hermione and Severus felt mighty small in comparison. Even more telling was the fact that the adults carried the "cubs" with them by the scruff of the neck.

By the time they came back with their first giraffe kill, the two villages made a whole day's work out of butchering it and splitting the spoils between them, and the Grangers were given the first taste as their honoured guests.

Having learned that the first kill was never eaten by the hunter from the centaur, Hermione and Severus instead fed on the great pride they felt in their accomplishment and a spicy local goat dish that they hadn't realised they liked until they ate it. A part of them realised that the giraffe would feed the villages for some time to come, and that alone was something to be very proud of.

When the exhausted pair finally crawled into the Granger family hut and snuggled in between them, Severus and Hermione realised that Mr and Mrs Granger were definitely the best parents on the planet— Muggle, perhaps, but ultimately far more accepting than most magical families: loving, intelligent, compassionate, highly professional, but never condescending.

The least they could do was be the kind of children that the Grangers could be proud of.

Little did they realise that the Grangers were already nigh to bursting with tremendous pride in them both.

Perhaps, years later, if a visitor were to examine the Granger refrigerator door, fireplace mantle, and hallways, they would soon realise that they took nothing for granted, cherished every single moment, and firmly believed that living was every bit as magical as magic itself.

By the time they came home from their epic summer vacation, the two teens wore their cowrie bead necklaces with pride, knowing they had given back to a world that had given them plenty so they, too, could give back in kind.

Even if they did have to have an awkward "talk" about health, safety, and being careful if either of them decided to indulge in a spot of, um, how's your father.

Hermione, of course, had been utterly mortified that her parents just couldn't have given her a book on it, and Severus was embarrassed that it was Hermione's father of all people who had given him the "father's talk."

And then he'd gotten the wizarding version from Alastor Moody.

That he decided, was far, _far _worse in the awkward department.

Hermione and he hadn't been able to look at each other in the eye without being really, really embarrassed for at least a good week afterward.

* * *

Their sixth year ride to Hogwarts had a rather stinky beginning when some sodding idiot decided to set off a number of homemade dung bombs in the cars. Whoever had done it apparently misjudged the power of the explosion, and the scent had carried to every single car and one of the teachers had to open every window and sent a cleansing breeze through.

Someone had wrapped the bombs up neatly in Ravenclaw colours, too.

As if whoever did it would be so stupid as to announce their stupidity to everyone (and a Ravenclaw at that) by branding the object that did it.

_Imbeciles._

Hermione and Severus immediately set to work on an air freshening satchel that could be easily hung in any area and included a spell that would slowly diffuse an air cleansing and deodorizing potion as needed.

It became a huge hit within mere minutes of being tested, and all of Ravenclaw was eager to suggest various scents that they wanted to try. With Hermione's encouragement, Severus came up with a scent-capturing oil, where one could copy the scent of whatever they fancied to use in the diffusing satchels. Hermione wove her Arithmancy magic to predict the ebb and flow of air in the area to diffuse just the right amount of scent for use in a drawn four-poster bed, staff quarters, closet, classroom, or trunk and they smiled all the way to their Gringotts vaults.

The goblins, of course, were all too happy to invest their money in ever more lucrative investments internationally in both the Muggle and magical worlds. The two young entrepreneurs showed the goblins a great trust in allowing them to manage their funds as they saw fit— something most if not all of the Wizarding world shunned to do due to the invisible dividing line between the human and inhuman races.

The benefits were only logical.

Elementary even.

Meanwhile, as Hermione and Severus were visiting Gringotts and taking a short break from some investment negotiating, they happened to notice Lily Evans there applying for some sort of loan to start her own business.

She didn't even notice them, but it was obvious that the young witch had high expectations that the goblins didn't exactly share. Her face was getting ever redder with her increasing level of frustration as the visibly unimpressed elder goblin continued to scribble away on a long roll of parchment.

"Very sorry," the goblin said unsympathetically with a flash of sharp teeth. "All businesses _must _have collateral in case of failure or a proven earner in which to stake it upon."

"How is that supposed to be fair?" Lily blurted. "I'm _trying _to start a business to become a proven earner!"

"Collateral then," the goblin stated firmly, "or someone willing and able to cover the debt should your business fail."

The goblin turned his head to crack his neck. "You may, of course, arrange a business partnership with someone else to combine assets to cover the appropriate risk factor."

"I'll help you, kitten," Sirius purred, coming out of nowhere.

"I don't want _your _help, Black," Lily said, eyes narrowing. "There's always a price."

Sirius smiled. "Only one thing, pet," he said, slicking back his hair with one hand. He looked up and down at Lily. "Agree to go on a date with my best mate, James."

"I'm not going to date that stupid toerag just so you'll help me with this financial issue, Black."

"You don't have to go on multiple dates, sweet," Black said with a smug smile. "Just _one _date. No two minutes and bailing on him either. Just one night out giving the poor lovesick bloke a chance to prove he's not just a sodding toerag, hrm?"

Lily stared at Black, her lips pressed into a flat line. Then she turned back to the goblin. "Would _his _contribution get me the loan?"

The goblin tilted his head. "It would, indeed. The Black family has a very long history with us."

Lily stared off to the side, her thin shoulders scrunching together. "Okay, fine. Potter gets one date, Black."

Sirius' answering smile was exceedingly smug. He waved his hand. "Let's get this started then."

Severus felt Hermione lightly leaning into him, and he turned, wrapping his arm around her as he ushered her back into head goblin's office to continue their investing plans. He couldn't help but notice that Hermione's scent changed from her normally calm sugar plum scent to something more acrid, not unlike a pile of burning leaves.

Feeling a strangely powerful desire to shield Hermione and hide her from Black's sight, he kept himself carefully in between as they left the area.

If either Evans or Black saw them there, it ended as the formidable doors of the head goblin's office closed shut behind them.

"Ahh, my young friends," Greshtak said with a baring of teeth. "I think you'll be very pleased with this new investment opportunity we have found for you. It's an upcoming Muggle electronics company called Apple."

* * *

When Lily Evans came into the Great Hall covered in purple, everyone was staring and sniggering at her. The humiliated young witch was trying to cover herself up and still manage to eat, but every inch of her was a bright, glowing purple.

"What the _hell_, Lily?" Marlene hissed at her, hastily covering her up with a loud floral shawl to make it look like she was at least matching.

Lily inhaled her food quickly, practically choking herself, and then rushed back out of the Great Hall, the teachers at the High Table watching her antics with barely contained suspicion.

Ailsa McDougall leaned over and whispered to Severus and Hermione. "That the charm you devised against someone trying to reverse engineer your stuff?"

Severus gave a sideways glance. "Yes."

Ailsa grinned. "Wicked. How long does it last?"

The corner of Snape's lips curved upward as Hermione sniffed before replying "Until she confesses."

Snape's dark smile was unforgiving. "To the patent office."

Ailsa's eyes went wide. "You two are brilliant but _scary_."

Snape snorted, and Hermione finished scribbling on a piece of parchment.

"What are you making now?" Ravi Patil asked, as curious as any Ravenclaw.

Hermione attached the parchment to her owl's leg and sent it off.

"Patent for our latest tonic. HaLo. It even tames _my _hair," Hermione said with a satisfied smile.

"It's still sentient," Severus quipped, earning himself a half-hearted shove to the arm.

Hermione shoved her face into Snape's now-silken hair. "You smell even _better _now," she purred.

Snape flushed crimson and turned his head away, trying to stifle his instinctive reaction to that.

Fortunately or not, Hermione gathered her books and rushed off. "I have an appointment with Professor Flitwick. I'll meet you later in class."

Snape grunted a reply as she left.

"You could just hug her like a normal bloke when you get a comment like that," Ravi observed.

"Shut it," Snape snapped, feeling his ears redden.

* * *

As Nundu, Snape realised, physical contact was never awkward. They could pounce, tumble, roll, and flop on each other without feeling like a line had been crossed.

Yet— Snape couldn't help but feel a new kind of tug when he was around Hermione, and it was only with Hermione that it happened.

Protectiveness.

A need for closeness.

It wasn't even that they hadn't been close all their lives. To say otherwise would have been a lie, but something had changed. Something intangible.

Something utterly confusing.

Hermione had always been fiercely protective of him— that was just a given. She was a raging lioness, fierce and defensive and downright electrical in nature. It made him happy to know someone cared enough about him— even if she was a bit shocking about it.

Literally.

Mind you, she was pretty shocking about her beloved books being harmed too, but Severus understood that to Hermione, books were on the top of the list of most cherished and loved things, so being on the same level as a book was not insulting at _all_.

At least his voice had stopped cracking.

Gods, but that was embarrassing.

Nothing made it hard to be taken seriously like having your voice crack in mid-thought. Everyone was giggling by that point, and he felt like it was a curse or a jinx rather than a perfectly natural phenomenon.

At least his face didn't break out in hideous spots like Amos' did. The boy looked like he had a nasty case of dragon pox.

_Ugh_.

Then again, maybe their lotion and scent dispersing sachets had helped there too. It was truly the gift that kept on giving. Maybe they should give the poor wizard a free bottle— in, uh, the interest of science.

Hermione was laying on her back, paws up in the air as she rolled back and forth on the willow's rougher bark to scratch her irritating itchy spots. The willow offered up a branch and obligingly itched her, and she mrowled in pure pleasure at the relief.

Feeling a bit odd to be jealous of a _tree_, Severus laid his head down over her back and yawned, flopping his large six-digited paw against her muzzle and patting her playfully, claws sheathed.

Hermione wiggled and huffed, her tail flipping back and forth. She bat, bat, batted at his face with her paws and then tore off down the branch to flops somewhere else.

Severus called it a boogah. Sometimes you just had to get it all of the pent-up energy out of your system. Her need to chase, however, triggered his own, and he darted after her, giving her a pounce as he flopped over Hermione like a furry throw rug.

She groomed his growing spines that were woven into his almost-mane. They both had them, oddly enough, and it seemed like it was growing thicker to cover up what he supposed were the special air sacs that were filling in. They hadn't really used their breath weapons when they were younger, but with growing up came other concerns— like knowing when to hold your breath.

The spines, though, were strange, like rubbery and thick hairs that covered their bodies along with their fur. They were perfectly soft and pliable usually, until they weren't. Emotions, again, seemed to fuel the change from one form to the next.

Hermione often amused herself by grooming his spines down on one side and then batting at them when they popped back up.

He, of course, had to return the favour.

They often stayed away from others, having realised that picking up on other people's emotions was a recipe for the kind of halitosis that would be quite fatal to anyone that wasn't them.

He did wonder how the Grangers had always appeared to be immune.

Was it because they were little?

Was it something else, perhaps?

Maybe it was one of those parental mysteries mums and dads always have over their kids. Like the old "do as I say not as I do" argument, not that the Grangers ever had _that _particular problem.

His father, on the other hand—

Hell, even his mother.

He still hadn't forgiven her for Obliviating the Grangers in order to kidnap him back home for his nightly beating.

That wasn't very respectable parental behaviour in his book. He knew he only had the Grangers to compare to, but if the Grangers could be such wonderful role models (hell, if they were magical instead of dentists, he'd have wanted to be one just because they were so great at it—) then surely they weren't the only parents out there that succeeded in being great parents.

It wasn't like the Grangers were perfect. They argued, sometimes bickered (usually about some dentistry journal), and even banished the other to the "man cave" or the "woman's niche" in the house, but Severus had no doubt whatsoever that they truly cared about each other.

He always wondered why his parents had even gotten together if they hated him (and seemingly each other) so much.

But, for some strange, beautiful, wonderful reason, the world had given him Hermione, and that alone was enough to let him forgive his parents for being themselves and even forgive them for being such dismal failures at parenting. He figured if he hadn't had Hermione in his life (or the Grangers for that matter) things would have been very different.

That troubled him—

Not having Hermione was a seriously terrifying thought. She was so much a part of his everyday life that not having her there was to court emptiness and total despair.

Who else would he brew potions with? Practice new spells with? Make up new spells with? Invent random and highly coveted formulae with?

Who else would stick her face into his hair and say it smelled good?!

Surely not anyone else.

And because it was Hermione, he couldn't call her a liar.

Hermione didn't lie.

She couldn't lie.

Okay, well, she could _try _to lie, but it didn't work.

He could always tell.

Usually, it would be her trying to say she was okay when she really wasn't. Her tells always gave her away.

Every single time.

Hermione was lazing about, dangling her legs over the willow branch as her tail flicked back and forth.

The little tail flick was simply too irresistible.

_Wiggle._

_Wiggle._

_**POUNCE!**_

Hermione yowled, shot straight up into the air and then used the branch to get back down to the ground, tearing a path away from the tree.

Severus tore after her, complaining in exasperated yowls that the outcome he had wanted was not for her to go and do _that_!

He gave mad chase, tearing up a wide swath of grass as he ran after her, and he became so focused on the hot pursuit that he paid little heed to precisely _where _he was running.

Suddenly, Hermione came to an abrupt halt and neatly side-stepped.

Severus realised far too late that he had followed her to the end of the pier. She had stopped just in the nick of time, but he—

Frantic clawing and scraping of the poor pier did nothing to assist him in slowing, much less stopping himself.

His bloody claws couldn't seem to gain any purchase!

Oh _shite_…

_**KERSPLOOOOOOOOOSH!**_

Hagrid, who had been enjoying a peaceful spot of fishing from a nearby rowboat, suddenly found himself being pitched about in turbulent rapids, his poor boat rocking wildly just before a rogue wave completely drenched him in water and decorated him from head-to-toe in pretty pink lake lilies.

Dripping and coughing up a storm, the bewildered half-giant finally wiped the weeds out of his face and looked around with wide eyes— to see absolutely nothing amiss.

"A wee bit more sleep is what I need," Hagrid mumbled to himself as he wrung out his bushy beard and dislodged a cranky grindylow that proceeded to try and suffocate his face.

Hagrid pried off the grindylow and threw it back into the lake with a gusty sigh.

"I _really _need to find meself a calmer place to fish."

* * *

When a prefect for Ravenclaw escorted a sleep-groggy Severus and Hermione to the Headmaster's office in the dead of night, they thought that their antics on the pier had been discovered— not that Flitwick or Minerva hadn't already known the forms they took, but they had been (usually) very careful about being seen by any others. Their natural camouflage had seemed more than adequate for the task, or so they believed.

"I fear that I have a most serious matter currently at hand that I need to speak to you two about," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes completely lacking the twinkle that was normally evident regardless of the gravity of the situation.

Hermione moved a bit closer to Severus, pressing lightly against his side as she moved a bit behind him. Headmaster Dumbledore had always made her very nervous, from the time when they had first noticed a strange "tingle" in their heads during their previous interactions with the old wizard.

Severus narrowed his eyes, unconsciously moving in front of Hermione, crossing his arms in front of his chest in what had become a strangely common gesture whenever placing himself between her and whatever might disturb her peace of mind.

"Ah, you think this means you are in trouble," Dumbledore guessed. "No, I fear it is something quite dire in nature, and I must as for your assistance as well as your discretion in this matter."

Flitwick wrinkled his nose as he looked around Dumbledore's cluttered office. "Does this matter require the attention of an Auror?" he asked. "This sounds most disquieting to me, and I will not have any of my students underrepresented while making major decisions."

Albus shook his head. "It has come to my attention that some well-known students, whose names I cannot reveal, have been unfortunately infected with lycanthropy. While this is certainly not fatal in itself, the families involved are fairly well-known and for this information to become public knowledge would make it impossible for them to continue on with their schooling in the Wizarding world due to instinctive fear as well as an unfortunate anti-werewolf prejudice. I am quite sure you can understand that a proper education is the right of all students, regardless of what affliction might befall them during certain times of the month."

Albus leaned forward against his desk, focusing his intense blue gaze upon the two young Ravenclaws. "I'm sure you would agree that not being permitted to learn is a horror even more terrible than undergoing a painful transformation during a few days of the month?"

"That's horrible," Hermione whispered, looking not at the headmaster but at the subtle weave in Severus' woolen robes.

Severus, despite his private suspicions, nodded sharply.

Flitwick tilted his head, his sharp eyes pinning the older wizard. "What exactly do you want from two children who have no connection whatsoever to the affliction, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore's aged face seemed to gain a few more wrinkles. "I would like them to use their considerable talent in creating potions that have been such a boon to the field of magical medicine to work on creating a treatment or perhaps a bonafide cure for lycanthropy."

Both students exchanged glances, both excited and quite confused as to why they were being asked to do it over someone in seventh year— or an actual potions master like Professor Slughorn.

"Surely there are others more qualified for the task than we are," Severus observed. "While we both have a genuine love for what we do, we have not yet sat our N.E.W.T.s nor do we work professionally in the field of medicine."

"Well-qualified and experienced does not always mean fresh eyes and ingenuity," Dumbledore replied, stroking his beard. "You have already proven that you have created potions that push the lines of what is possible with your skin healing potion, the long-lasting calming draught, and your most recent, HaLo."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "You may not be as limited as you believe by your experience of what is expected of you. This could prove to be the key to a cure that even hundreds of years worth of study have only managed to produce a partial at best and quite arguably less than ideal treatment."

Flitwick sighed. "Damocles Belby has been working for some time on developing a potion he calls Wolfsbane, Headmaster, perhaps—"

"I fear he has already told us that it will be, even if it works, a mere partial solution to the madness rather than a true cure for the affliction."

Flitwick frowned. "I see."

Severus looked into Hermione's eyes and she nodded back to him.

"We'll do it," Severus said.

"Excell—" Dumbledore began to say.

"_But_—" Hermione interjected.

"We will get full credit for the discovery if it should succeed," Severus added.

"We will patent it as we have all of our other inventions," Hermione said, her chin lifting. "It will involve a lot of intensive research and work outside of our current studies. It will also mean we will require our own laboratory, one unused by other students and uncontaminated by any other projects."

Severus exchanged significant glances with Hermione. "It will certainly mean work past our curfew and require permission for us to both gather and order potions ingredients and obtain any additional equipment that we might need."

Dumbledore dipped his head slightly, a small frown visible on his mouth as he realised the two students had clearly thought ahead to preserving their own research and hard work—something most other students would not have bothered to consider. Instead, they would've simply waited for instructions and guidelines from him first. He eyed the pair solemnly, realising that they were nothing like the typical Hogwarts student.

Then again, they never _had _been.

Dumbledore looked to Flitwick, but the part-goblin wizard had a stern look on his face, clearly determined to protect his charges from potential abuse, even if it was about taking advantage of their remarkable mental prowess for some supposedly delicate project for the betterment of werewolves everywhere.

Even if they didn't _know _who the werewolves in question were.

Even if he'd done his very best to conceal the original werewolf from the school—

Dumbledore nodded in agreement to the terms. "Very well." He couldn't afford to not have them working on it. Their young minds were definitely up to the task. Of that, he had no doubt at all. The students who had been involved in the transmission of said infection—

Albus sighed inwardly.

One of them had been quite determined to figure out _why _Lupin was frequently being led out to the Shack by Poppy—

The other had been so determined to stop the other that he'd been unprepared and infected along with her.

Now, he had three students to protect from the public prejudice against werewolves.

No, he had to get the two Ravenclaw on board. And once the cure was in hand—

He'd deal with it _then_.

Dumbledore smiled at the two students. "I promise I'll get you whatever you need."

* * *

Lily was damned miserable.

More than miserable.

Aching.

Sweating.

Bleeding, miserable.

Her entire body was trying to bleed itself to death while simultaneously trying to torture her mind into insanity.

Bitten by a werewolf.

A _werewolf!_

Her right hand was swollen like a tick and completely useless as Madam Pomfrey had it wrapped with some sort of smelly liniment to seep out the toxins from the bite, but it was also trying to bleed out at the same time.

And it hurt.

A _lot_.

More than a lot.

She'd just wanted to see _why _Remus was always allowed to stay out after curfew. She had seen him walking outside at night so many times before.

Then Potter had tried to get her to run back to the castle.

No way, she'd thought.

He'd screamed at her to leave immediately, had even gotten out his wand, but that had just made her even more determined since he refused to say _why_.

Until he'd been so determined to block her way that he hadn't even noticed the werewolf looming up behind him.

Nor had she—

Until it was much too late.

Some hairy black dog had tried to attack the werewolf, but the werewolf had already seen what it wanted: humans.

James had gone down while desperately trying to protect her, but instead of running, she'd tried to use a spell—

And then the werewolf had lunged and bitten her right on the hand.

Werewolves weren't supposed to be real.

They were stories.

Myths.

Professor McGonagall was a cat.

The other thing—

It was just some poor wizard under a curse or something.

It wasn't contagious.

It couldn't be.

Damn it, _she _wasn't going to turn into a dirty beast!

She wasn't going to be a— monster.

A pained groan caught her attention.

_James._

Her eyes flicked over to his bed where multiple blood-soaked bandages covered his body. He'd taken a lot of damage to save her—

_Stupid._

If he'd have just gotten out of her way, she could have found out where Remus was hiding and they could have gone and gotten well away before that werewolf attacked either of them!

It wasn't a werewolf.

It _**wasn't!**_

It was just some cursed witch or wizard or some other magical beast they hadn't learned about yet.

A swirl of black and blue caught her eye, and she saw that pale-faced wizard and the bushy-haired witch, those two Ravenclaws that were always together.

She could never understand _why_.

The wizard was a scarecrow of a boy with skin as pale as milk and sporting the hooked nose of an evil arch-villian from those old movies she and her father used to watch together.

Oh sure, his skin was sodding perfect thanks to that stupid lotion they'd created. The girl's bushy curls were tamer than before but still a ruddy lion's mane—

When Lily watched them, she— Hermione— would always be leaning into her friend and smiling up at him with such a disgustingly trusting look.

A naive little _**fool **_was what she was.

What kind of girl would be stupid enough to trust any bloke who looked like _**that?**_ He was obviously going to be (or was) a Dark wizard, destined to spend his life polishing the shoes of some nasty pureblood Slytherin powermonger.

She just _knew _they were up to no good, too.

She couldn't seem to get them in trouble, though— not as long as they needed to be, anyway. While she was slaving away trying to become the very best she could be, they were just coasting through getting away with bloody murder.

It wasn't _**fair!**_

She had to go get a stupid leg-up from the likes of Sirius Sodding Black just to get her business going and they—

She hated them.

She hated how _**easy **_they had everything.

They had all the stupid luck.

She'd been working so hard on developing her own skin beautification lotion, but they'd gone and gotten theirs patented first. She tried to prove it wasn't any good by deconstructing it, and it blew up right in her face and turned her freaking purple.

_**PURPLE!**_

"For now, we will work on maintaining the pain relief aspect ," Snape said, his voice a low baritone rumble and no longer cracking like it used to. Lily shivered. There was something very strange about it that seemed unnatural or inhuman in nature, but she couldn't quite put her finger on _why_.

The bushy-haired witch nodded. She made some sort of nonverbal signing with her fingers in a flash of movements.

"Exactly," Snape replied.

Lily realised they were speaking while brewing— the witch refraining from speaking aloud so she wouldn't interfere with spells cast while Snape gave the instructions.

Potions were always an annoying necessity for Lily, and the double potions classes with Slytherin had always been aggravatingly monotonous, but they'd never been told to hold back discussing while brewing only that there were no charms involved or complex wand movements—

At least on anything she had to brew for class.

Another rapid flash of fingers.

Snape nodded. "It will have to be administered now before—" The scarecrow-boy stood perfectly still— unnatural and downright creepy and made even more so by his robes which seemed to shift and flutter around him in a billow with each movement or even when he wasn't moving.

"You're right, of course," he said, nodding. "Add the tincture three drops at a time. Turn anti-clockwise every other stir. Stop when it turns a bright orange, then add the moondrops. The painkilling properties will be powerful, but it will only be useful for unwilling transformations. We will have to be sure, lest the potion do something quite unexpected or— potentially lethal."

The bushy one shook her head, tilting her head just so.

Snape sighed. "I know, and I know you don't want to test on victims, but we can hardly _not _do so when the Headmaster is around and breathing down our necks every night for updates."

The witch sighed, slumping.

Snape touched her cheek gently, brushing his thumb against her face. "It will work. You did the Arithmancy formulae, and I did some very meticulous tweaking of our recipe."

The witch— Grayson? Gargle? Granger?—scrunched her face up oddly, and for just a second, Lily could have sworn she saw her puff out a small cloud of steam.

The cauldron bubbled violently, and both Snape and the Graggley girl hissed together, lunging for something at the same time. Snape threw in a pinch of something white, and the girl did some frantic stirring.

The cauldron shuddered violently and then bubbled a bright plum purple then a loud, obnoxious, almost fluorescent orange.

Then Gangler started to raise her wand.

"Hold on—" Snape said in a hushed whisper. "It's _perfect_. Look!"

Grapple waved her hands expressively.

Snape pinned her against him in a fierce embrace. "It worked! It just needs to settle for an hour and then it will be ready to bottle."

Gargler murmured something into his chest, and Snape startled, letting her go. He hastily quilled something onto a parchment, attached it to the yawning owl that was trying to sleep on his shoulder, and sent it off. The owl fluttered off, hooting softly.

"Oh— Mr Snape, Miss Granger, is that—" Poppy Pomfrey walked up, her blue eyes going very wide. "Dare I even hope?"

"One hour for the potion to cure," Snape confirmed with a polite nod. "It's just the painkiller, but—"

"It's _much _better than we had before, which was basically nothing," Poppy replied kindly.

"We will also need a sample of blood from the infected students after—" Snape trailed off. "To tailor our research to their needs."

Pomfrey nodded grimly. "I will discuss it with the Headmaster and make the necessary arrangements."

Snape and Granger bowed slightly and exited, leaving Pomfrey to her tasks. The mediwitch adjusted some items on the shelves until someone called for her on the other side of the infirmary.

Lily eyed the cauldron of bubbling orange potion and narrowed her green eyes to slits.

There was no bloody _**way **_she was going to let those two create yet another miraculous healing potion for some infection and get even more attention and inflated egos than they already had. There were so many others that were far more hurting for even just a little bit of the praise and favour those two had managed to attract just by being lucky enough to patent something first.

Lily's ginger hair stood on end, even as the throbbing pain in her bitten hand increased by leaps and bounds.

_**Crack!**_

The cauldron cracked right down the center and the bright orange liquid seeped out in a slow trickle first on the counter and then to the floor.

Startled by how quickly her magic had responded to her anger, Lily promptly went back to the business of tolerating the pain in her hand.

_Werewolf. _

_Hah._

She'd show them all that werewolves weren't real.

* * *

"More than one, truly?" Orrin asked, rubbing his mane uneasily with one hand. "As if all the howls and cries from beyond the wood were not startling enough with only one."

Sander shook his head as Vitalis slowly turned the spit over the fire. "We are most fortunate that our non-human status protects us from such threats."

Hermione shuddered. "I certainly wouldn't want to get infected."

Severus cracked his neck and sighed. "I'm not quite sure if we're fully human either."

Hermione tilted her head.

"We've never been— as natural as we are when we are on all fours and prowling."

Hermione leaned into Severus' side. "Hrm."

"Perhaps you have always been Nundu," a centaur mare said, frowning at the small sapling she'd trampled by accident.

Orrin snorted laughter at his mate. "Fern, beloved, I swear to you that more saplings are tested by your hoof than by wind and erosion."

The paint centaur sighed loudly. "You miss my point," she huffed. "I'm saying that maybe you've always been Nundu and that your human form is the guise. Like the cat-witch in reverse."

"If that were indeed the case, the lycanthropy would not infect you, or rather, the werewolf would not be driven to attack you."

"Seems pretty risky to test," Severus said, somewhat dubious.

Orrin shrugged. "I don't really think my Fern is suggesting that you go out and hug a werewolf just to prove her theory."

Hermione scrunched up her nose. "Canines, especially lupines, have a stench to them."

Her expression was so disgustedly feline that Orrin laughed heartily and patted her on the back. "Fear not, my dear. Far be it from us to force you into commingling amongst the wolfy set."

"So, you could smell them on the night of the attack?" Fern questioned.

Severus shook his head. "We were sequestered away in Ravenclaw Tower at the time. Professor Flitwick has always been quite adamant that we return to the tower at curfew, and Hermione practically breaks out in hives any time she even _thinks _of breaking the rules."

Hermione scowled at Severus who just smirked back at her.

The centaurs snickered together. "And yet, had you not broken the rules, you would likely never have run into us."

Hermione flushed, unable to argue the benefits yet still wanting to stick to her tenacious and admittedly foolhardy ideals.

The centaur nickered and stomped their hooves in amusement.

Hermione sighed. "We can smell it on them now," she confessed. "The wolf under the skin. In the blood. In Remus Lupin, we had always thought it was just an odd trait of the family, like his name— but then we realised once we started the project that it was actually their inner wolf that we were scenting in their bodies."

"It grows stronger as the moon gets fuller too," Severus noted.

"Like a smelly wet dog," Hermione said, nodding ruefully. "Which I once thought was just—" She blushed. "A sign of poor personal hygiene."

"We should go back and check on our potion," Severus said. "It should be done soon."

Hermione nodded. "Have a good evening my friends."

The centaur nodded. "Thank you for the remains of your hunt."

The two young hunters smiled and made haste in their return back to Hogwarts, their paws beating a nearly silent path through the forest.

* * *

"Professor Dumbledore," Poppy said, wringing her hands in obvious distress. "I only left the room for a few minutes, and when I returned the cauldron and potion were destroyed! Without it, they—"

Albus stared down at the cracked cauldron and the remains of the orange potion on the floor and counter with frank dismay. "I will have to set the wards even more strongly on the shack. We cannot have three werewolves getting loose to rampage over the Hogwarts grounds, or, Merlin forbid— Hogsmeade."

"The pain potion would have allowed for other spells to be much more effective in keeping them properly subdued—" a tearful Poppy wrung her hands. "It was _perfect_, Albus. It only had to cure for one more hour, I'm quite sure of it."

Dumbledore sighed, stroking his beard in thought. "I'm sure it was, my dear. Those two are the kind of unique talent that hasn't been seen here in hundreds of years. Alone, they would have been declared genius by right, together they will— have— mastered a craft that has taken others many more years to reach true proficiency in."

Dumbledore's face became still, wrinkling deeply as he considered his options. "I believe I will escort them out to the shack myself tonight," he said finally.

* * *

"I am _**not**_ a werewolf!"

"Lily—"

"_**NO! **_It's _**NOT **_true! It's _**NOT!**_"

Remus looked at Lily with something that might have been true pity. "It's going to hurt quite badly, Lily. You should really prepare yourself for that."

"_**Werewolves aren't REAL!"**_

"I've been once since I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback when I was five years old," Remus coolly informed her. "Believe me, werewolves are very real, indeed."

"Fenr— He's just a stupid _**boogeyman **_magical families use to scare their kids into behaving themselves!"

"Based on _**facts**_, Lily," Remus said, sighing. "Look, surely you felt it? The hunger? The need to tear off your skin and run around, biting, tearing? It's real, Lily. I'm really sorry that I bit you, but— you shouldn't have been out there in the first place! Dumbledore designed this shack specifically to keep both me and innocents safe during nights of the full moon!"

"_**Whaa**_— but _**why **_didn't you just say so! Why did you let me think you were out sneaking around the grounds during curfew! I got _**hurt **_because you didn't tell me the truth!"

"Lils—" James started to say rather wearily.

"_**NO! YOU**_ should have told me instead of just telling me to get back to Hogwarts! _**YOU**_ should have told me the _**TRUTH!**_" Lily screeched shrilly, her green eyes going wide as the full horror of the situation finally began to dawn upon her.

"You wouldn't have believed him anyway," Remus pointed out, seemingly quite resigned. "No one ever does."

"_We_ did," James said sullenly.

Remus closed his eyes. "And we all can see how well that worked out for you."

"Padfoot and Wormtail are still out there. They can let us out after we transform and keep watch over us," James said confidently.

Remus' expression grew dark. "You are a sodding _fool_, James."

James startled at that, unused to such a blunt manner from his longtime friend.

Remus' eyes were a bright golden amber, almost glowing in the dark. "One werewolf can easily be distracted. More than one makes a pack, and a pack does whatever it pleases. Why else do you think Fenrir tries so hard to grow his numbers? Why do you think the werewolf desperately wishes to bite and claw humans? Humans will _become _pack— if they survive the initial attack."

Remus' eyes grew more feral. "And packs grow,one way or another." His teeth were sharper as blood trickled down his chin as they jerked and twisted in their sockets, changing. "The pain feeds the wolf— and the human is beaten down until it whimpers inside, unable to fight. Unable to resist. If Dumbledore could have provided some way to dull the pain, we'd have a fighting chance against the wolf, but fighting is painful. The shift is unnatural and unwilling, unlike, say, an Animagus transformation, which makes it unspeakably painful. And the pain—"

Remus' expression was becoming wolfish, his face already pushing out into a muzzle. "The pain is both mental and physical in character."

His hands were jerking as his tongue slid out, appearing to be unnaturally long— like a wolf's. He licked his lips from the blood elicited by his changing teeth. "Guilt is pain as well," he said thickly.

Remus then fell onto all fours as fur burst through his robes and his body jerked wildly as if it was being yanked about by the strings of a sadistic marionette.

Then his head tilted back, and he _howled_.

Lily began to scream as her own body jerked and twisted in agonising response, answering some call only her cursed body could seem to understand.

"_**No, no! Nonono!"**_ Lily cried piteously even as she screamed, even as she felt her body's eagerness to break through the pain to be swallowed up by the emerging wolf.

Her panic fed her pain.

Her pain fed her wolf.

Her agony fed her desperation—

And a blast of her unleashed magic blew outwards, shattering the shack into a hundred thousand floating pieces of shrapnel.

* * *

Hermione shifted in her half-sleep state, feeling strangely uncomfortable.

Having been forced to wake up from her pleasant snooze in the Whomping Willow and trek back to Ravenclaw Tower was just one _more _reason why sleep wasn't happening easily tonight.

There was something else too, if she was being honest with herself.

She missed _his _presence beside her.

It was an odd feeling, as she'd slept beside him many times before since they were kids, but now it was starting to bother her when his warmth wasn't there with her.

It made her feel… cranky.

Then, she was cranky because she was cranky over something so illogical.

Hermione pulled her pillow over her face.

_Nnngh._

She'd never had such a problem sleeping before.

She'd never been so aware of his absence.

It made _no _sense.

_Illogical._

_Selfish._

_Stupid._

She snorted and walked out of the dorm room, shaking her head in annoyance at the other girls' loud snores. A bloody bomb could go off and they'd remain totally oblivious to it. All the better for her to slip out unnoticed.

She needed to stretch her legs and maybe tear into something rodent-y.

A mouse would be fun to play with but— not very filling.

A rat would be slightly more substantial, perhaps.

But a nice, juicy deer would really hit the spot right now.

Bother.

She'd already dined on a few rabbits and squirrels that evening with a pre-curfew hunt. Why was she feeling all antsy right _now_?

She licked her jowls and mrowled, hitting the floor on all four legs as easily as ever, fluid and natural as breathing and just as unconscious.

_Oof._

Damnit, who put that table over there?

Was she getting fatter?

Bigger?

Damnation!

She pulled her claw out of the snag in the carpet and nudged the table over and back into place.

She really should stay in the tower.

She really, really _should_.

Her whiskers twitched.

But—

She was so ruddy restless!

She itched one ear with her rear foot then the other.

She chased Geena's cat's jingle ball toy all around the common room until she was panting with exertion.

Still restless.

Her tail twitched.

Her ears twitched.

Her paws twitched.

_**ARGH!**_

Hermione stood up again, shaking until her hair stood on end and then flattened down. She let out a dark blue juniper-scented cloud of sheer annoyance, and sighed, her spikes rising and falling in her coat as her claws were sheathing and unsheathing.

She eyed the portrait canvas by the portal exit.

She placed her paws on both sides of the portrait and her claws scratched the wall beside it. She started to knead the walls, closer and closer to the canvas, curious as to what it would feel like under her paws.

"_**Ahhh!" **_the portrait cried aloud, hurriedly diving into another frame as the portal door opened up.

Well, that wasn't what she wanted _exactly _but—

She padded out the portal door, on the prowl for a nice fat rodent or three.

Maybe even four.

She slunk about, sticking close to the shadows in the hall when—

_**POUNCE!**_

_**EEEEEK!**_

Hermione tumbled down the hall and landed with a loud _**OOF**_ as Severus lay sprawled on top of her, smugness dripping from every fur spike.

"Out for a midnight stroll?" he purred, his tail flipping back and forth in his amusement.

Hermione slumped with shame at being caught out breaking rules.

How embarrassing.

Stupid emotions.

Stupid not sleeping.

Stupid _everything_.

_**ARGH!**_

Severus purred, grooming her ears with long, lingering strokes of his tongue and suddenly everything was _much _better.

She purred and flopped down in sheer bliss as all of her restlessness vapourised into nothingness.

She felt better. Perfect. Calm.

She groomed the side of his muzzle, thumping her six-digit paw against his mouth as she cleaned over his eye, ear, and neck.

Severus let out a content purr, seemingly just as content to have her around as she was him.

"Oi! No canoodling kitties on the carpets, if you please!" one of the portraits complained, and Severus stretched out each of his daggerlike claws and slowly tore into the nearby carpet down to the stone.

_**Rip!**_

_**Rrrriiip!**_

_**RRRIPPP!**_

The portrait immediately hushed and dove off into another canvas… somewhere.

Hermione looped her tail in amusement. "Grumpy."

Severus yawned, showing all his teeth as his tongue lolled, feline style.

"Are you complaining?"

Hermione lay on her back and pawed lightly at his jaw. "Not really. If I didn't like how you were, this would be a horrible time to confess to it."

Severus sneezed, hsi whiskers twitching. "I suppose."

"Why are _you _awake this late?"

"Considering you are, why does it surprise you?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Me either."

"Oh."

They lay together in the middle of the hallway in silence.

Within seconds, they were both sound asleep.

* * *

The howl woke them both to the point of their fur standing on end. They both leapt to their feet, tails like bottlebrushes.

"What was that?" Severus asked, even as he placed himself pointedly in-between her and the sound.

Hermione placed her head on his rump. "A howl of some kind but— oh no. It's the full moon. Werewolves."

Severus growled lowly. "I thought Madam Pomfrey was going to put them to sleep after using our painkiller on them."

"Maybe my Arithmancy was wrong—"

"Impossible," he said. "You checked it multiple times. And then Master Morgan checked it again."

Hermione's tail lashed in conflict. "But—"

"Stop thinking it's somehow your fault," he scolded her.

Hermione worried on Snape's tail, clearly unconvinced.

Severus tolerated it awhile before giving her a clawless swat to the nose to remove her from his tail.

"We should go investigate."

"But it's past curfew," Hermione whinged.

"We're already out past curfew!"

"But going outside is definitely against the rules!"

Severus snorted. "Fine, go back to bed," he said archly, making his way outside.

"But, Severus!"

"Go to bed!" he growled, bounding off into the dark of night.

Hermione started to slink back to Ravenclaw tower, but then she looked back to where Severus had gone.

_But it's against the rules! _her inner voice whinged again.

_Someone could be hurt!_

_But the rules!_

_Severus might need help too!_

_BUT __**RULES!**_ _We could lose_ _**POINTS!**_

Hermione paced and paced and tried hard to not think about Severus out there alone somewhere, hurt and in pain and—

_I really need to work on my priorities_, she admonished herself as she found Severus' scent and followed it, bounding off into the darkness.

* * *

The screams were the first thing Hermione heard as she lay next to Severus in the brush of the forest.

Screams from Hogsmeade—

Her ears flattened tightly against her head.

Severus bared his teeth at her, and she hissed back at him, annoyed.

"I told you to go back to bed."

"You could have needed me!"

"You're worried about points."

"I'm more worried about _**you!**_"

Severus' body relaxed a little at that. "Well… fine."

She rubbed up against him. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I really am."

"I know. You just— you are kind of obsessive when it comes to your stupid house points."

She tugged on his mane and spikes with her teeth. "I'm— working on it."

He gave her a black-eyed stare and then huffed, tail flipping back and forth. "The people in town are running scared. I want to send out a Patronus, but if I shift out, there may be a werewolf waiting. I only see two down there."

Hermione sank her teeth into the scruff of his neck and Severus laid his ears back further.

"What was _**that **_for!?"

Hermione glared at him. "Our collars report back to Master Morgan. He'll know if you're attacked."

Severus had the decency to look a bit sheepish. "Oh. Right."

"So far, the doors are holding well enough," Hermione said, her ears swivelling. "Do they realise they are werewolves?"

"I'm not quite sure. I think—" Severus paused. "I think they were too scared of some unknown beasts out on the prowl to even pay attention to what it was."

Another scream caught their attention, further from the town but closer to them.

"Severus, a _**child!**_"

Severus was standing at attention. He looked to where she was—

"_**Let's go!" **_

They were off without a further word, their paws spreading as their claws sheathed to give them additional running speed without snagging on the ground, each digit splaying to grip the ground and pull them along faster. Their bodies seemed to glide across the ground.

There was a young child wailing in terror as a werewolf was attempting to jump up onto the wall she was hiding herself on— just out of reach but for how much longer was anyone's guess.

_**Snap!**_

_**Snap!**_

The teeth of the werewolf clicked followed the scrape of claws as the slavering beast focused on attacking the child.

The scent was oddly _familiar_—

Feminine mixed with wolf in a rather unholy combination of unnatural and unbalanced. The attacking werewolf was obviously out for blood, the intense fear from the terrified child fueling the madness werewolves were known for anytime humans were involved.

The two of them pounced the werewolf at the same time, claws out, teeth bared, caring not for how lethal they were in the face of a child being hurt.

Severus knew Hermione's bite would be lethal— severing the spine with near surgical precision.

She always did.

He was the suffocator, the superior weight that dragged the body down and cut off their oxygen. Together, nothing stood a chance against them.

But as his grip on the werewolf sent it off-balance, Hermione let out a yowl as something ploughed into her from the side, knocking her off.

Another werewolf.

Now, there were two.

And now Hermione was fighting, and he could do nothing, lest the one he had firmly be released as well. His superior size was already stealing the breath from the werewolf, but it would take time for it to fall unconscious.

His nostrils flared as the watched the fight.

The werewolf was probably, if one were to put a real wolf beside him, huge, but compared to a Nundu on the cusp of adulthood—

Hermione was wrath incarnate.

Her spikes retracted and then popped back out, stabbing the attacking werewolf's vulnerable belly as it tried to claw and bite her neck. Her mane of fur and protective spikes proved that Nundu were built for defense against things much more vicious than werewolves—

All the play tumbles and fights they had gotten into, practicing their skills was all the more evident as Hermione wrestled the werewolf to the ground as her hind legs cocked up to her belly and then raked down the werewolf's body, slicing them from sternum to tail as effectively as a entrail-expelling curse.

The werewolf yelped in pain, falling to the ground, twitching even as another werewolf slammed into Hermione— this one bigger if a bit leaner, scarred— and more determined.

The werewolf howled as it tried to clamp onto Hermione's neck but ended up with a mouthful of spikes and mane.

The howl, however, only encouraged the werewolf under Severus, and he could feel her struggling more as adrenaline pumped to every limb.

He could feel her hatred building unlike anything he'd ever sensed from another living being—

He felt it in every fibre of his being.

He felt it in every spine. Every hair. Every cell.

A cloud of black-green breath billowed from his mouth, expelled from filled sacs in his neck he hadn't realised he had.

The werewolf started to foam at the mouth even more and then convulse wildly.

Hermione had seemed to have enough, and Severus could feel her emotions shift from disable to lethal mode, and her entire body was both tired and fueled by her fear for the child.

_**CRACKcrackCRACKcrackCRACK!**_

Master Morgan Apparated in, his wings unfurling in a mad flurry of beats as Unspeakables tumbled out from under them, ducking as the elder dragonbat sent out a piercing shriek of rage mixed with acidic fire.

Severus and Hermione had moved immediately the very moment the cracks of the Apparate had sounded off.

They _knew _what it meant.

Their master was here, and he was never the sort to let things go on any longer than they should.

The Unspeakables had a shield up around the fallen werewolves, who were now deafened, blinded by the scalding and burning dragonbat fire, diseased, and half-torn to pieces by the Nundus.

Hermione gave a startled meow as the previously terrified child promptly velcroed herself to her neck and wouldn't let go.

Severus tried to nudge the child away, back to the Unspeakables or—

A rather brassed-off looking Alastor Moody—

The child refused to budge, hugging Hermione tightly, so small that she fit in between the spikes of her mane and body.

Hermione, panting with exertion, allowed her spines to retract.

"Good kitty," the child said, patting her on the head.

How the child had known that the Nundu pair were somehow safe was quite a mystery.

A glowing Patronus zinged out from Alastor Moody's wand as he looked Hermione and Severus over even as Master Morgan wing-walked over and gave them both a fond nuzzle and snuffle as he breathed out a cooling and healing breath over their bodies.

The child giggled and glomped his face, tickled by his breath and fascinated by his rugged dragonbat appearance.

Severus and Hermione exchanged glances.

"It's my rugged animal magnetism," Master Morgan said with a sniff.

"Ach," Alastor grunted. "That's a right load of—"

Master Morgan stuffed the child's pink hippogriff toy into Alastor's open mouth. "_Children_ are present, Alastor."

Moody gave the old dragonbat expressively rude eyebrows.

"Come, child, let's get you back to your parents," Master Morgan said kindly. "Then we can deal with the rest."

Alastor began barking orders as the Unspeakables stunned and Disapparated with the subdued werewolves, carrying them away from Hogsmeade.

* * *

_**Two Hogwarts Students in Critical Condition After Wild Animal Attack Strikes Hogsmeade**_

_Wild animal attacks were reported in Hogsmeade last night causing panic and mayhem as terrified townspeople hid behind barricaded doors and windows and struggled to find their families both amidst and following the aftermath of the attacks._

_The people of Hogsmeade witnessed the animals attacking a mangy-looking dog as the dog attempted in vain to drive the animals back to the forest whence they came. _

_The attack at least provided most people a few crucial moments to flee behind their doors into their shops and residences. _

_There was only one report of a missing child, but the child was returned to her worried parents close to dawn by two young Ministry trainees, Severus Snape and Hermione Granger, who were working under protectorate code 15.2.E.55 to assist citizens in immediate peril. _

_The incident, which was blamed on an as yet unexplained explosion of accidental magic in the old Shrieking Shack, is thought to have badly startled the wild animals and disoriented them, driving them to attack the good people of Hogsmeade. Some reports claim the attacking animals were wolves, others that they were stray dogs, while others claim it must have been bears. _

_Thankfully, the beasts were quickly disabled and removed from the area and, thankfully, no one else was harmed._

_The Shrieking Shack, which has been a landmark of sorts to Hogsmeade with many believing it to be haunted, may or may not be rebuilt depending on if the current owner wishes it to be. Many seem to think Hogsmeade simply wouldn't be the same without the Shrieking Shack and its haunted reputation._

_As for Monica Stonehew, the child who was lost during the night, she tells us that "two big kitties saved me from the bad dogs in time for the giant bat-man to burn them all up"._

_Regardless of the truth in the matter, we are very happy to report that there were no casualties in Hogsmeade save for the two injured Hogwarts students that were found in the morning near the forest edge: Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew._

_It is believed that both of them were the initial victims of the attacking animals, and both are at this moment in critical condition at the Hogwarts infirmary. As for why they were out in Hogsmeade so late at night instead of sleeping safely in their dorms at Hogwarts has yet to be determined. _

_Sirius Black's condition is listed as critical but stable._

_Peter Pettigrew's condition is rather more severe due to a number of limb amputations during the night, but he is said to be stable as well._

* * *

Lily moaned, aching all over. Parts she didn't know she even _had _hurt.

Moving hurt.

Breathing hurt.

She opened her eyes.

_Ow._

That hurt too.

"You alright, Lils?" James asked hoarsely, his own voice caught somewhere between a groan and a moan.

Lily tried to move. "No."

"Congratulations, you lot," a gruff and serious-sounding voice said. "You are all now wards of the Ministry, thanks to last night's attack on Hogsmeade."

Remus sat up from his cot, wincing as he rubbed at his neck. "I've never felt _this _awful after—"

"You've never been subdued by the DMLE before, I reckon," the man on the other side of the bars said. "You've never been force-fed about fifty-odd different disease-curing potions, either."

"Lycanthropy has no cure—"

The man snorted rudely. "Not for the lycanthropy, boy," the man said with a scowl. "You were breathed on directly in the face by a Nundu whose breath weapon depends entirely upon the emotion felt or generated around it. You can blame the girlie over there for your diseases."

"What?!" Lily cried. "How dare you accuse me—"

"Shut it, girlie," the man said, unimpressed. "You three attempted to kill or infect a little girl in Hogsmeade. You tore your friend Black to pieces, and you bit an arm and leg off the other boy— one Peter Pettigrew. You were running amok as uncontrolled, mad animals, and you really should have been killed instead of subdued!"

Lily's eyes grew wide in shock as she trembled in fright. "How c-can you even _**say **_that?! It's not _**our **_fault!"

"Then why didn't you keep yourself in secured in a safe place during the change? That you were you were locked up? Chained? Tranquilised? I don't think you were so bloody stupid that you didn't realise you were bitten by a werewolf, girl. I think you were just so bloody stubborn that you didn't _**want **_to believe it, and now innocents have paid the price for your refusal to accept reality."

Lily paled slightly at the mention of tranquilisation.

"What did you _do_, Lily?" Remus demanded, noting her reaction.

"I— _**nothing**_!" Lily protested.

James suddenly seemed to realise something.

"Those two Ravenclaws— they were working on something in the infirmary. Something for us. Madam Pomfrey was really happy for us, and then suddenly she wasn't. What did you _do_, Lily?"

"I didn't want _**them **_to have yet another thing to hold over my head!" Lily spat furiously, then abruptly realised what she said and exactly how it sounded. She got a look of panic on her face as she hurriedly clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Well, Alastor," a woman's voice said. Her voice was hardened and serious. "I think I now know why their breath weapon changed last night."

The dour man grunted in agreement. "Aye, ma'am."

"Have the Unspeakables collected samples of their blood for research," the witch ordered, her eyes narrowing. "Have our Nundu friends pin them down if need be."

"You can't _**do **_this! We're human beings!" Lily protested in outrage.

"According to the law, Miss Evans," the witch said frostily, "you're not fully human anymore. I can do whatever I wish to do, and any pity I may have felt for you disappeared the minute you lot formed a pack and attacked Hogsmeade and endangered many, many innocent lives. Had you only come to me in good faith, I would have been able to secure you a safe place to transform, and this entire fiasco could have been avoided."

"But Dumbledore—" Lily slapped her hands over her mouth again as James and Remus visibly wilted in dismay.

The elder witch's lips curved upward, but there was no smile in her eyes. "Bloody Dumbledore. I should have known."

She jerked her head to the team of Aurors who were waiting in the shadows. "Have him arrested at once for illegally harbouring werewolves at Hogwarts and endangering children."

"Ma'am," the Aurors said, making haste to leave.

"You had best pray to whatever god or gods you might choose to pray to, Miss Evans," the witch said coldly. "Pray that the cure Master Morgan's apprentices are working on succeeds, for if it doesn't, you will be spending the entirety of your life in a cell in the bowels of Azkaban, where I _know _you won't be able to escape to attack innocents ever again."

"But—" Lily began.

"You formed a pack bond, you see—" Alastor said. "You won't be able to help yourselves. You will deliberately sabotage every attempt at caging the beast so it can be free to join its brethren. Maybe if ol' Dumbledore would have separated you three or succeeded in tranquilising you as planned, the bond would never have formed, but you done buggered that right up, _didn't _you, idiot girl?"

Moody's scornful gaze was dark as he shook his head. "You'd also best hope and pray that Greyback doesn't get wind of you. He'll murder those two over there to break your pack bond and take you as his mate. You're still young enough to be just his type."

Moody scoffed and turned, leaving the cell area with an air of complete disgust.

Lily cradled her head in her hands and started to tear at her hair with her fisted fingers. "No, no, no, this isn't how it's _**supposed **_to be!

Remus thumped his head against the cell's wall, slumping. Suddenly, he stiffened. "Wait. They were working on a way to subdue the wolf, and you went and sabotaged it out of spite, didn't you?"

James' head shot up and he saw that Remus' green eyes had bled into bright gold. "Moony, _please_."

"You refused to hold back your damned selfish pride and the need to feel superior long enough to allow them to help us because you just couldn't _stand _for them to prove they might be better than you?"

Remus' growing anger was dripping off him in waves. A muzzle was forming, his teeth jutting out inhumanly from his gums.

"_**Moony!"**_ James cried, placing himself between Lily and Remus. "_**Calm yourself! Please!" **_

A vicious snarl formed on Remus' forming muzzle. "Remus isn't home right now— pup." With that, Remus succumbed to the fastest shift he'd ever experienced as the madness consumed him, and the wolf became king.

James had only a moment to realise that Remus' rage was so great that he hadn't even needed a full moon—

And then there were only Lily's terrified screams.

* * *

_**Headmaster of Hogwarts Evades Capture When Aurors Attempt to Arrest Him for Child Endangerment and Secretly Harbouring a Werewolf!**_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore escaped by what seemed like spontaneous combustion today when he was charged with illegally harbouring a werewolf at Hogwarts, endangering the lives of Hogwarts staff and students alike and allowing two teens to become infected, not notifying the DMLE or securing a suitably safe holding facility for said werewolf, and neglecting to inform other staff members of the situation. _

_Minerva McGonagall, now acting Headmistress, refused to permit any interviews on the matter, informing us that seeing to the safety of students and staff was her sole concern at the moment._

_All attempts to locate Mr Dumbledore have failed. It is believed he may have even left the country. Anyone who believes they may have information regarding Dumbledore's current whereabouts are to notify Senior Auror Alastor Moody at once._

* * *

_**Surprise Attack on Hogwarts Leaves Hundreds Torn to Pieces by the Castle Guardians!**_

_The news of Mr Dumbledore's departure triggered a surprise attack on Hogwarts by none other than Lord Voldemort and his fanatical followers, who call themselves "Death Eaters". _

_While terrified students fled deep into the dungeons, guarded by teachers and staff, the castle itself sent waves of enchanted gargoyles and statues out to attack the intruders. _

_The giant squid seized over a hundred of the attackers, dragging them off into the depths where Grindylows and the merfolk drowned them en masse. The Whomping Willow also punted many black-robed bodies off into the forest where they were swiftly dealt with by a number of highly annoyed and well-armed centaur warriors. _

_Others found themselves promptly webbed up and eaten alive by a huge colony of non-native Acromantulae that had somehow taken up residence in the Forbidden Forest._

_Others were trampled to death by what appears to be hooves of thestrals and hippogriffs._

_Yet others were greeted by the castle's magic-negating gargoyles, who snatched the invaders out of the air and broke their necks._

_Those that survived to get to the main doors of Hogwarts were greeted by Hogwarts' most well-kept secret guardians—_

_Nundus._

_Known to be able to withstand the spells of up to and even over a hundred witches and wizards at a time, the two Nundu ripped unwary invaders to pieces before many of them even realised they were in grave danger. They fed off the invaders' emotions and spewed out clouds of virulent disease, and not one of the invaders were able to escape— even those who attempted to flee through the air, thanks to the timely assistance of the infamous dragonbat, Master Manfred Morgan, and a well-prepared squad of Aurors and Unspeakables currently "on loan" to Hogwarts from the Department of Mysteries._

_Amelia Bones, HBOY of the DoM, and Senior Auror Alastor Moody lead their squads to victory while protecting the students and staff of Hogwarts._

_No innocents came to harm during the attack, and the completely paralysed (initial reports say his back is broken) body of the Dark wizard who reportedly calls himself "Lord Voldemort" was found under the rump of a rather annoyed gargoyle who had apparently tired of plucking him out of the air and simply sat upon him, breaking his spine. Tentative reports state that the prolonged exposure to said gargoyle's, ah… gaseous emissions seem to have stripped the unlucky Dark Lord of all magic._

_A number of spontaneous fires also broke out in random places across Britain, oddly, they apparently occurred shortly after the attack on Hogwarts. It has yet to be confirmed if the incidents are somehow connected. _

_The locations of these fires include an abandoned shack in Little Hangleton (last known to belong to the Gaunt family), the long-empty Riddle House (also in Little Hangleton), a hidden room within Hogwarts (which was fortunately extinguished before it could spread), the library in Malfoy Manor, the Lestrange family vault in Gringotts, and a few others throughout Wales and Ireland, which may or may not be linked._

* * *

Alastor Moody lay one large hand upon Hermione's furry shoulder, soothing her mane as she bristled at the Ministry official who was trying to poke and prod her to determine if she actually _was _a Nundu.

He didn't miss the dangerous glower coming from Severus, either. The black-furred Nundu was more than a little protective of Hermione, even on a good day, and the latest drama at Hogwarts had been enough to galvanise his protective instincts even more.

They'd already been registered officially during their first year at Hogwarts, thanks to Minerva and Flitwick's quick intervention, but this particular official had apparently come at the behest of some obnoxious witch who was striving to become the next Undersecretary to the Minister—

She'd seemed awfully annoyed that Hogwarts' secret weapon hadn't really been a secret to the right people, so there was nothing she could do to have them "put down."

Hermione's tail was starting to look a bit poofy as the wizard tried to measure her teeth.

Alastor rolled his eyes in exasperation. Who _did _that, anyway?

The Minister for Magic had already awarded both Hermione and Severus an Order of Merlin for their faithful service and protection of Hogwarts, and that didn't even include whatever future ones they might get for developing their cure for lycanthropy, which was currently on day twenty of its brewing cycle. They had high hopes for it— even if they _did _have to test it on Fenrir bloody Greyback first.

It was only fair— after all the trouble he'd put everyone through for the last however many years.

They could only be so lucky as to have it not be right and kill the perverted bastard instead.

Alas, if anyone could make a successful cure for lycanthropy under pressure, it was Master Morgan's apprentices.

Yet, they were so terribly humble about it.

They'd gratefully accepted their master's advice and tips from the other masters of Arithmancy and potions, but they still crafted something uniquely their own— something only someone who was not limited by what had been done before could do.

They were far too young to _be _limited, and for once, that was a trait to be cherished and nurtured.

Their secret Nundu-selves had unfortunately been revealed by sheer necessity, but neither Hermione nor Severus seemed too upset for having done so to protect the school.

They'd had precious little warning, thanks to Regulus Black and (even more surprisingly) Lucius Malfoy, but it had been a warning nonetheless.

Regulus Black seemed like a decent enough sort, all things considered, but it seemed Lucius seemed to think that attacking a school full of children was _not _how he wanted to be remembered when he and his new wife were trying for a child of their own.

At least the man did have limits. Not all of Malfoy's peers did, and it was shown by their corpses that had gorily decorated the Hogwarts green.

_**CLICK!**_

Hermione's pearly-white fangs had just snapped right against the now-trembling sod's face.

The idiot had finally managed to completely brass her off, and Hermione had reminded the wizard that she had fangs for a reason.

Was that the stench of… urine?

Oh yes, it definitely was.

The dolt promptly fled, scrolls and all, apparently thinking fleeing was far better than valour in this case.

If the wizard had thought two Nundu were bad, he should meet Manfred Morgan. That dragonbat could quite literally scare the crap right out of you—

Unless you were one of these two furballs. They loved him to _death_.

Manfred, of course, loved them right back. That made the old dragonbat completely insufferable. It was bad enough that every Kneazle in creation wanted nothing more than to snuggle with the old codger, and every child seemed to think hugging him was way better than any teddy bear (at least until they grew old enough to remember what fear was.)

There was a thump as a short, dumpy woman with a puffy toad-like face came in, pushing the poor, terrorised sod in before her. "You _**will **_finish what you started, Timberlake!"

"B-bu-but ma'am!"

"_**No excuses!" **_she shrilled. "I want you to find out if there is anything off about these two— two— dirty beasts! They are terribly dangerous and should _**never **_be permitted to befoul the Ministry or any school!"

She pushed the man along by wandpoint, scowling.

The man looked fearfully at Hermione's fangs, which she had so kindly exposed to reveal a beautiful pearly radiance that could only come from fastidious tooth brushing.

"Such scrutiny is not necessary," Alastor barked, knowing full well that she wouldn't agree.

"It is _**very **_necessary, Mr Moody," she said at him, chin up.

"Auror."

"What?"

"It's _Auror _Moody. Senior Auror Moody, to be precise."

Her face reddened to a shade that would better suit a radish.

"Oh, does it hurt to have someone insist on titles like you do, pet?"

Alastor looked her square in the eye.

She actually managed to gain another shade of red. Impressive, really.

She also looked like she was actually sacrificing her breathing to manage it. _Poor puppy_, he mentally snorted.

"According to Ministry statute 15. -11-22, any and all beasts must be properly registered and documented, and if they are indeed considered too dangerous to be controlled, they _**must **_be put down immediately!"

"They are."

"Yes, they _**are **_dangerous!"

"Well, yes, Nundu are dangerous, but they have been properly registered and documented for years now."

"_**Impossible! **_Nothing of the sort ever passed _**my **_desk!"

"I do not believe you have the proper level of clearance, Madam," Alastor said, a small smug smile tugging at his lips.

"How _**dare **_you! I _**am **_the secretary to the future Minister for Magic!"

Severus laid his head on top Alastor's head and whuffed lowly, his hot breath jostling the secretary's mousy brown hair. He took care to be extra drooly, too. Droplets of thick, stringy saliva dripped down from his huge fangs.

The secretary did precisely what Alastor suspected she'd do: she pulled out her wand.

_**Snap!**_

Severus took the wand delicately between his front teeth, practically daring her to do something about it.

"_**Bombarda Maxima!" **_the witch screamed.

Moody felt Hermione slam into him, her enormous bulk pinning him down on the floor even as her body moved over his to protect him from the resultant blast.

_**BOOOOOOM!**_

The room filled with the heat of a massive explosion.

* * *

Hermione moved off him after a minute or two, and Moody thanked every god he could think of that he'd been well-drilled in casting silent and wandless bubblehead charms.

He looked around to see that the entire room was charred black, and the unfortunate lackey that Umbridge had pushed in was alive solely because Severus had sat upon him to shield him from the blast.

Dolores Umbridge, however, was hanging from some of the rubble that remained of the far wall while bearing a remarkable resemblance to a charred human charcoal briquet. Her wand was still clenched between Snape's bared ivory-yellow fangs. He then spat it out, and it thwacked into the doorframe with an odd _doiinninginginginggg _noise_._

Manfred stepped out from behind the doorway with a distinct sniff, his thick mane of silvering fur rustling as he wing walked in. He stepped over the body of the trembling lackey (who promptly shat his pants in terror) and eyed Umbridge's charred body with a disdainful ear flick. He strolled casually over to Severus and mirrored his snarling expression, comparing fangs and claws with an appraising assessment.

"Tea is ready," Manfred said, yawning impressively. "And I'm buying ice cream."

"_**Beast!"**_ Umbridge shrieked, even in her pain. "I'll have you put down too! Filthy animal!"

Manfred turned slowly and stood to his full height, placing his muzzle directly in line with her face even as she dangled helplessly from the rubble of the almost-ceiling.

_**SNAP!**_

His fangs clicked but a millimeter away from her face, his breath so hot that it caused her to perspire profusely.

She promptly pissed herself, crying out incoherently in fright.

"I'll have you know, _Dolores_," Manfred said lowly, his voice a deep, draconian rumble chased with venom and ice. "I _outrank _you, and I will be sure to let old Cornelius know what a true idiot you are, pulling a wand and then being fool enough to spout words of hate around a Nundu as well."

He inhaled as if to breath fire or screech, and Dolores passed out.

"Ice cream it is then," he said.

He turned and wing-walked out without a further word, and the two Nundu eagerly bounded after their master.

Umbridge let out a single pathetic whimper from her place hanging on the broken remains of the wall.

"Come along, Alastor," Manfred said. "It's not every day that I pay for both ice cream and tea in the same morning. Leave them to— think about their life choices."

Moody scratched his head and then followed after. "Hell if I'm missing out on Manfred paying for ice-cream," he said.

The small group of Unspeakables came in after the other left to scrape Umbridge and her unconscious lackey off the floor and walls but not before they hung one of Snape's enchanted sachets on a larger piece of debris and banished the room's sooty stench in favour of the luscious scent of candied apples.

* * *

_**Internal Memo**_

_**From:**_ _Amelia Bones, HBOY _

_**To: **__All, Department of Mysteries _

_Everyone, Dolores Umbridge has decided to leave the Ministry behind in favour of starting a kneazle farm across the pond in California. I'm sure you'll miss her just as much as I will. _

_By the way, there will be a potluck party held in the DoM's main arboretum this Saturday afternoon in honour of Dolores' early retirement, which she has sadly declined to attend. _

_Don't forget to write down the date and be sure to bring your kiddos and significant other to spend a wonderful day of celebration with one and all._

_There will be an ice cream sundae bar too. _

_Manfred says he's buying._

_[Photograph of a laughing Cornelius Fudge being licked to death by two exuberant Nundus wearing medals around their necks]_

* * *

_**Cure for Lycanthropy To Be Released in Small Batches at St Mungo's**_

_Responsibly registered werewolves will be placed first on the list for the new lycanthropy cure created by the young brewing genius Severus Snape and his partner-in-Arithmancy, Hermione Granger._

_After a period of extensive testing, the new cure will be released in small batches of twenty doses (enough for twenty people) over the next year. All Ministry-registered lycanthropes will be offered the cure first and with no charge whatsoever for the potion or any followup medical care that might be needed. _

_The cost for all ingredients used to brew the curative will be covered in full by the Malfoy family. _

_Those not currently registered as werewolves will be required to await their turn in confinement (for the safety of everyone, including themselves) until the former are cured. _

_The formulae for the cure is held under strict patent and is being regulated by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and cannot be brewed in large batches. Each batch of the potion takes one month to create and cure before it can be safely administered. _

_The cost for the cure for those who have not registered is unknown at this time. The cost for emergency treatment due to endangering the lives of innocents is suspected to be very steep indeed to cover not only the procurement of ingredients but also court costs, and any damages both any victims and those families who were next in line for the cure._

_Laws are already being passed to protect those who are cured of their lycanthropy from being discriminated against in the workplace. Hefty fines will be levied against those found guilty of such despicable acts and the galleons collected will go towards producing more of the cure as well as the cost of any damage done to the individual(s) in question._

* * *

The house cup had fallen into the lap of Ravenclaw once more for their major roles in protecting Hogwarts as well as their enthusiastic gathering of academic points. While a few always bungled things up by getting caught red-faced and with their knickers down in empty classrooms and broom closets, most of Ravenclaw was much more interested in their academics than in indulging their adolescent hormones.

Gryffindor had unfortunately placed themselves solidly on the bottom rung of things with their misdeeds and misbehaviour, facing the grim reality that they were so far into the negative on points that it would take another Dark Lord rising with them at the helm of heroism to gain them back anytime soon.

Gossip ran rampant, as it did not take them very long at all to notice that five students had gone missing from the Great Hall during mealtimes of late.

Rumour held that they would all be returning to Hogwarts next year, possibly to redo their last term, but as no one really knew anything for certain, it was all hearsay for now.

Jerome Goodfeather in Hufflepuff, who had a father working at the Ministry Department of Education, said that James Potter and Lily Evans were going to be homeschooled via a specialised Ministry program at the Potter family's insistence.

Remus Lupin, however, would be coming back to school with Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew.

That is, if Peter was up to returning to school at _all_.

According to Salome Sharif, who had a mum working at Mungo's, Peter was so traumatised by the loss of his arm and leg that he was nothing short of catatonic and sequestered in the Janus Thickey ward—

But people weren't sure whether to believe _that _either.

Rumours always ran rampant in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, and ironically it also meant that the truth was harder to believe.

Hermione and Severus went back to life as usual with their alter-egos being some sort of mad rumour that most definitely couldn't possibly be true— at least to the students.

Do you see how skinny Snape is? He couldn't _possibly _be a Nundu.

Hermione? She loves her books so much, she was probably off reading in the library when the Death Eaters came. No way was _she _a Nundu either. Hell, she cries when someone finds an injured owl or kitten. She couldn't fight hundreds of Death Eaters. No _way_.

No, things at Hogwarts continued on as usual—

Sans the old Headmaster and his phoenix.

Admittedly, most people quickly realised that Minerva McGonagall ran a much tighter ship than the old man ever did, and Flitwick made for a very strict Deputy Headmaster as well.

Broom closet snoggers, merry pranksters, Quidditch pitch weed smokers, and Astronomy tower lovers beware—

The Leaving Feast was surprisingly festive considering all of the trauma and drama that had happened that year, but many seemed to think that it made everyone better friends in the end. McGonagall even encouraged the house tables to intermingle during the feast, and for the first time in the history of— well, _ever_— the students in Hogwarts could sit with their friends, regardless of house.

The students took to the idea with real excitement, and the entire staff seemed happy enough to let it happen.

By the time the students left on the Hogwarts Express, Minerva and her staff breathed a sigh of relief, setting to work in repairing what the battle had destroyed—

And trying to retrain the gargoyle to _not _sit on people after it had apparently developed a true fondness for the activity

At least, she figured, now that he wasn't binging on Albus' lemon sherbets, his potent flatulence was no longer an issue anymore.

Small favours and all that…

The Whomping Willow seemed to sulk and get a bit cranky without the children about, but Minerva suspected it was more that its best friends — its certain Nundu friends— weren't around to tend its branches.

She wondered if she should start brushing up her hiring mojo to keep Hermione and Severus at Hogwarts after they graduated. Hogwarts, it seemed, quite agreed with that idea, as it had promptly conjured up a pair of familiar-looking Nundu statuaries to lounge upon the courtyard green—

The stairs leading up to the Head Boy and Girl's quarters was now decorated in Nundu mosaics, too—

Subtle, Hogwarts. _Really _subtle.

Fine, so she would humour the old castle. It deserved a little humouring after all the trauma of the last term. It wasn't like the Board of Governors wouldn't enthusiastically agree with the decision. They practically wanted her interning them into positions even though they hadn't taken their N.E.W.T.s.

She wondered where the barmy old coot had gone and hidden himself away.

A part of her truly missed the Albus she had thought she knew, but the part of her that had stood up to protect the terrified children during the Dark Lord's attack on the school—

Ach, what was done was done.

For now, there was plenty to do, and she would see it done right so Hogwarts would continue on the next term without a lingering dark cloud hanging overhead.

That would have to be good enough.

* * *

_**End of Chapter One**_

* * *

A/N: Okay, I realise I said it would be short… and I also realise anything I write "short" tends to grow longer and longer, but— it turned into a cute Nundu story!

Sorry!

Not sorry!

Okay, maybe a _little _bit sorry?

It's back to work for me tomorrow, so no updates for awhile again.

Please thank The Dragon and the Rose for staying up past her expiry date again to beta this chapter, smash my questionable grammar, and generally chase after me when I— _**SQUIRREL!**_

Ahem.

Back for more fun with our Nundu-kids (well teens, now, I suppose) when I get a break from work. Only Merlin knows when _that _will be—

Eek: _Hey, where are the spiders?_

Bucket: *muffled squeaking*

Pinky: _Maybe next chapter?_

Coffee: _**EEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeee!**_ *zoom*

Octavius: _Don't put __**me **__with the git!_

Blodwyn_: I could make it work, Severus loves my biscuits. _

Baeg: _Mmmm, biscuits _*falls off table*

Τρία : *shakes all three heads*

Fonn: _*chases birds, knocking over trees*_

Brim: Prrrrt?

Ottermione: Squeakitysqueaksqueaksqueak… meow?

Anyway… stay cool, everyone. It's bloody sweltering out there!

* * *

**A/N 3:** To "Guest" who seems to think Friedrich Nietzsche was a Nazi: Please do your research. He was a German philosopher and if anything he was an open critic of anti-Semitism and nationalism. He saw German nationalism as dangerous. The irony that the fascists took his ideas and twisted them to promote their own agenda is something that could happen to anyone when someone else's truth is too hard for another mind to fathom so they decide to rewrite it something they want others to see as right. I will not apologise for using a good quote from a man who was way ahead of his time and then got bushwhacked by lesser minds on the "wrong team" (including his own sister Elizabeth who had to get another philosopher to try and translate her own brother's philosophy so she could attempt to understand it (and still failed, BTW).)


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